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/ 




THE MASQUERADERS 

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS 


BY 


HENRY ARTHUR JONES 

AUTHOR OF “ THE TEMPTER,” “ THE CRUSADERS,” 44 THE DANCING 
GIRL,’’ 44 JUDAH,” U THE MIDDLEMAN,” ETC. 




r ~ hf ^jp'\ 

APR 2 7 1894'*; 


New |3ork 

MACMILLAN AND CO. 

AND LONDON 
1894 


my} 9 







Copyright, 1894, 

BY 

Macmillan & Co. 


David Remon. 

Sir Brice Skene. 

Montagu Lushington . . . 

Eddie Remon. 

The Earl of Crandover, 
Master of the Crandover 

Hunt. 

Hon. Percy Blanchflower . 
Sir Winchmore Wills, M D. 
George Copeland . . . . 

Fancourt . 

Carter . 

Randall . 

Rodney . 

Sharland . 

Jimmy Stokes, an old huntsman 
Brinkler, proprietor of the 

“Stag". 

Thomson. 

Dulcie Larondie . . . . 

Helen Larondie, her sister . 
Charley Wishanger, after¬ 
wards Lady Shalford . 

Lady Clarice Reindean,L ord 
Crandover's daughter . 

Lady Crandover .... 


Guests , Dancers , Fox-hunters , Hotel-servants and 
Waiters. 





















































































































































































































ACT I. 


Scene. The Courtyard of the Stag Hotel 
and Assembly Rooms at Crandover. 

Three years and a half pass. 


ACT II. 

Scene. Drawing-room at Lady Skene’s. 

Nine months pass. 


ACT III. 

Scene. Private Sitting-room at the Hotel 
Prince de Galles, Nice. 


ACT IV. 

Scene. The Observatory on Mont Garidelli, 
Maritime Alps, near-Nice. 

v 




























































































































ACT I. 


Scene. The old courtyard of the Stag Hotel and 
Assembly Roo?ns at Crandover, roofed in to form 
a hall. Along right is a bar-counter, surmounted 
by a glass casement and windows, which open and 
shut down on to the counter. In the middle of the 
counter is a lid, which lifts up and forms doorway. 
At the back are steps leading to the Crandover As¬ 
sembly Rooms. On the left the large old-fashioned 
gateway of the I?in. Running all round are the 
old galleries remaining fro?n coaching times. Plants 
and banners hung about the hall. On the outside 
of bar is hung a subscription list, in which the words 
“ Widow and Orphans ” and “James Ramsden ” 
are discernible. Dancing in the rooms beyond. 
Amongst the company are Lord Crandover, Lady 
Crandover, Lady Clarice Reindean, Char¬ 
ley Wishanger. The dance concludes, the couples 
disengage themselves, some of them come from the 
Assembly Rooms into the hall. Brinkler, the 
proprietor of the Stag Hotel, is crossing the stage. 
Montagu Lushington, a modern young man, is 
coming downstairs. 

Lord Crandover [a jovial English aristocrat of 
about fifty, speaks to Brinkler]. Devilish rum start 
this of Miss Larondie’s, Brinkler. 


2 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT 


Brin. [With a grin.] Yes, my lord. 

Lord Cran. Where is she ? 

Brin. [ Pointing off into the bar , l.] In the bar 
there. [ They all look off ', and show great interest. 
Montagu Lushington joins the group .] 

Char. [A very fast , mannish little woman, to 
Montagu.] Not bad, eh ? 

Mon. Exquisite. That divine poise of the arm 
as she draws the handle of the beer machine is 
really quite priceless. 

Lord Cran. Does she bring you much business, 
Brinkler ? 

Brin. Well, she’s brought me two good customers, 
my lord. 

Lord Cran. Who are they ? 

Brin. One of them is Sir Brice Skene, my lord. 
[Lady Crandover exchanges a look with Lady 
Clarice.] 

Lady Cran. Is Sir Brice often here? [Lady 
Clarice is showing mterest.] 

Brin. He’s almost lived here lately, my lady. 

Lady Clar. [ 7b Lady Crandover, aside , bit¬ 
terly .] What did I tell you ? 

Lord Cran. Who’s the other customer ? 

Brin. That mad gentleman that lives at Gerard’s 
Heath, Mr. Remon. There he is in the bar now. 
[ They all look off , and show great interest .] 

Mon. That pale individual who is dallying with 
claret in the corner? 

Brin. Yes, that’s sixty-eight Mouton Rothschild. 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


3 


I get it specially for him. Fancy drinking Mouton 
Rothschild ! 

Char. The man’s looking at us. 

Sir Brice enters from back , comes down gradually to 
group. 

Lord Cran. He’s an astronomer, isn’t he ? 

Brin. I believe he is something in that line, my 
lord. And he’s got a little brother who is likewise 
touched. 

Mon. With the stars, or the barmaid ? 

Brin. Miss Larondie isn’t exactly a barmaid, is 
she, my lord ? 

Lord Cran. No ; her mother is distantly related 
to the Skenes. Her father came of a good old 
French family. 

Lady Cran. The girl might have done well for 
herself. We used to receive her family at the 
Court, and when her father died I interested myself 
to get her a situation as a governess in a Christian 
family. But she behaved very badly. 

Mon. When one is a governess in a Christian 
family, one is compelled to behave badly for the 
sake of the higher morality. 

Lady Cran. Miss Larondie has thoroughly lost 
caste. And I should take it as a great favour if Mr. 
Brinkler would see that she has no chance of—of 

misconducting herself with- [Sir Brice has 

come up, and Lady Crandover stops embarrassed 
when she sees him.] 



4 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


Sir Brice. With whom ? Is Miss Larondie about 
to misconduct herself, Brinkler ? 

Brin. No, Sir Brice, I trust not. 

Sir Brice. [To Lady Crandover.] Have you 
any reason for supposing that Miss Larondie is 
about to misconduct herself, Lady Crandover ? 

Lady Cran. [Embarrassed .] I—I am surprised, 
Sir Brice,- 

Sir Brice. Have you any reason for supposing 
that Miss Larondie is about to misconduct herself? 

Lady Cran. No. 

Sir Brice. [Politely.] Thank you. [Goes off into 
the bar. In crossing the bar he has to pass Lady 
Clarice, he bows to her with extreme politeness , she 
bites her lips , and returns his bow. Exit Sir Brice 
into bar.\ 

Lady Clar. [To her mother , aside.] Oh, I can’t 
bear it ! 

Lady Cran. Hush ! 

Lady Clar. He has gone to that girl. [ The next 
dance begins. The stage gradually clears.\ 

Char. Our dance, Monty. 

Mon. [Giving arm.] So your vestal self is dedi¬ 
cate to matrimony and Sir Digby Shalford ? 

Char. Yes ; he’s a trifle washed out; but we are 
frightfully hard up, and you didn’t ask me. 

Mon. My dear Charley, marriage is the last insult 
one offers to a woman whom one respects. Love if 
you please- 

Char. Thanks. We’ll think about it. By the 




ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


5 


way, you’ll stand a chance with Clarice now Sir 
Brice has cut her. Her connections would be use¬ 
ful to you. 

Mon. What would Crandover settle on her ? 
Char. Not much. Clarice would tell me. I’ll 
ask her. What would you do it for ? A thousand 
a year ? 

Mon. [ Reproachfully .] My dear Charley, don’t 
hurt my self-respect. [ They.go into the ball-room?^ 

Enter Eddie Remon, a delicate boy of about twenty , 
highly refined, overstrung, imbalanced. He is fol¬ 
lowed by George Copeland, a bearded, athletic 
man about forty. 

Cop. But what’s he doing here ? 

Edd. Sun-gazing. 

Cop. Sun-gazing ? 

Edd. Yes. Look! Here’s his sun. She’s drag¬ 
ging him through space, and where the devil they’re 
going to, I don’t know. 

Enter Dulcie Larondie from bar. She stands for 
a moment looking off. Eddie and Copeland stand 
aside up stage. 

Dul. \Spe a king off into the outer bar. She has a 
large key in her handd\ I’ve forgotten the candle. Sir 
Brice, would you mind bringing me that candle? 

David Remon enters from bar, with the lighted candle 
in his hand. He is a man of about forty, pale, 


6 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


studious, philosophic-looking. Sir Brice follows 

quickly, and the two men stand facing each other. 

Sir Brice. Give me that candle. 

David. Miss Larondie— [Appealing to Dulcie. 

Dul. [Stands coquettishly looking at both of theml\ 
That one shall light me to the cellar who makes 
himself the most ridiculous over it. 

David. [Coming towards her.\ That will be my¬ 
self. 

Sir Brice. Give me that candle. 

Dul. Sir Brice, Mr. Remon will make himself far 
more ridiculous than you. 

Sir Brice. Then let him light you. 

[Exit into bar. Remon is carrying the 
candle towards the cellar door perfectly 
straight in his hands. Dulcie turns to¬ 
ll im. 

Dul. You’re carrying that candle on one side 
you’re dropping the grease. [He looks at her, holds 
it much on one side, and drops the grease.] That’s 
better. [She unlocks the cellar door, stands a moment 
or two looking him up and down with comic inspec- 
tion.] Yes, I think that will do. You look very 
well. Would you mind waiting here till I come 
back ? [ Gravely blows out the candle, enters the cellar, 
and shuts the door after her. David stands there. 
Pause. Copeland comes behind him, claps him on 
the shoulder .] 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


7 


Cop. Davy ! 

David. [Turns round, cordially^] My dear fellow! 
[ Very warm hand-shaking .] You’re coming to stay ? 
[Eddie creeps off to the bar and watches there.\ 

Cop. No, to say good-bye. I catch the night 
mail back, and to-morrow I’m off to Alaska. I’m 
sick of this nineteenth-century civilisation. I 
must do a bit of climbing, and get myself re-oxidized. 

David. What is it this time ? 

Cop. Mount Saint Elias, 19,000 feet high, and 
snow at the sea-level. 

Eddie. Davy, your bottle of claret is here in the 
bar. 

David. [Looking at the cellar door.\ But Miss 
Larondie has not come back from the cellar. 

Eddie. She went up the other stairs. She’s in 
the bar talking to Sir Brice Skene. [David goes to 
the bar, looks off, shows intense ?nortification. The 
band strikes up a very bright dance-tune. Eddie puts 
his fingers in his ears.] Oh ! oh ! oh ! Those 
wretched musicians ! 

Cop. What’s the matter ? 

Eddie. They are playing horribly in tune, as if 
the world were full of harmony. I must get a tin 
kettle and put them out. [David goes up to the bar, 
shows intense mortification, conquers it. Exit Eddie 
into bar.] 

Brinkler enters with a bottle and glasses. 

David. Brinkler, my claret here. [Brinkler 


8 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


brings bottle in cradle and two glasses,puts them down 
o?i the other side of siage.\ 

Brin. Mouton Rothschild, sixty-eight. 

David. So I’m mad to drink the finest vintages,, 
eh Brinkler ? [Brinkler looks surprised.} I heard 
you say so. 

Brin. Well, it is unusual, sir. 

David. You’re right. A man must be mad who 
drinks the rarest wines when he can get salted beer 
and doctored gin. Still, you must humour me, 
Brinkler. [Brinkler seems puzzled and stands apartl\ 
Though what’s the good of climbing Mount Elias, 
I don’t know. [ Turning to Copeland.] 

Cop. To get to the top of it. 

David. But what’s the good of getting to the top 
of it ? 

Cop. What’s the good of getting to the top of 
anything? You’ve spent the last dozen years of 
your life and nearly blinded yourself to solve the 
mystery of sun-spots. 

David. But sun-spots are practical. 

Cop. Practical ? 

David. Who solves the mystery of sun-spots may 
show the way to control the future harvests of the 
world ; and who controls the harvests of the world 
will provide cheaper swipes and smaller beer for 
Brinkler’s grandchildren, eh Brinkler ? 

Brin. [ Comes forwardd\ Sir ? 

David. I was saying that the elect of the earth, 
and by the elect of the earth I mean every man who- 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


9 


has a vote, may get cheaper swipes when I have 
solved my problem of sun-spots. 

Brin. Sir? 

David. Your grandchildren shall be amply pro¬ 
vided for, Brinkler. [ Turns to Copeland.] Drink. 
[Exit Brinkler puzzled .] A prosperous voyage 
and a safe return, old fellow. [Drinks.] I’ve drunk 
to your folly, now drink to mine. 

Cop. Tell me all about it, Davy. Jt is folly, then ? 

David. No, if folly is happiness, folly is the 
greatest wisdom. 

Cop. You are happy, then? 

David. [JVods.] Yes. And wretched, beyond all 
telling. 

Cop. Why ? 

David. I shall never win her. She’ll never be 
mine, George. And if she were,—that might be 
the saddest thing of all. 

Cop. How ? 

David. When the desired one becomes the pos¬ 
sessed one, her beauty fades. I love her, George, 
and I want to keep on loving her. [Copeland 
laughs .] Laugh at me ! I laugh at myself. I was 
forty-two last August. You know pretty much 
what my life has been. Drink one glass, old boy, 
to the days when we were twenty-five, and to our 
old loves. 

Cop. [Drinks.] Our old loves. Your last one, 
Davy ? 

David. Ah ! She soured me, but she didn’t 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


I o 


break my heart. And she drove me to my sun-spots. 
So God bless her ! God bless them all ! Whatever 
I’ve been in practice, George, in theory I’ve always 
had the most perfect loyalty to womankind of any 
man that ever breathed. [Copeland laughs.] Don’t 
laugh, you rascal ! I mean it ! I’ve always kept 
my reverence for them, and I’ve always known that 
some day or the other I should meet one who would 
make me worship her with the purest devotion a 
man can feel for a woman. 

Cop. And you have met her ? 

David. [Nods, looking towards bar.\ She’s in 
there, flirting with the choicest blackguard in Eng¬ 
land. 

Cop. You poor dear fool ! You always would 
pay half-a-crown for anything you could get for 
twopence. 

David. Yes, but I always knew what a fool I was. 
Do you think I don’t know what a fool I am now ? 
George, it’s not any empress, not any goddess, but 
just that girl in the bar there that owns me body 
and soul. 

Cop. Pack up your traps and come to Alaska and 
forget her. 

David. \Hand on his hearti] She’s packed herself 
here, and here she’ll lie snug and warm till all grows 
cold. \Looking over to bard\ And that blackguard 
is talking to her ! 

Cop. Who is he ? 

David. Sir Brice Skene. 


ACT 1 


THE MASQUERADERS 


11 


Cop. The racing man. 

David. Yes. He’s rich. George, if he- 

Cop. If he—what ? 

David. He shook hands with her last night. 
When his finger-tips touched hers, I felt I could kill 
him, George. And if he—if he—No, I wrong her ! 
She’s a good woman. And yet, damn him, he has 
twenty thousand a year- 

Cop. Is it a question of money ? 

David. What do you mean ? 

Cop. I’ve not a single near relation in the world. 
My father left me, I suppose, from two to three 
hundred thousand pounds. \Holds out hand .] 
Davy, say the word- 

David. No, George. 

Cop. Why should you hesitate ? 

David. I don’t want it. I’ve just enough for 
my wants. I’ve only Eddie to provide for. And 
I’ve only one extravagance. [ Tapping the bottle .] 
I love good wine, and plenty—not too much—of it. 

Cop But if you were rich—perhaps she- 

David. Thanks, George ; I won’t buy her. 

Cop. You’re welcome. 

David. I know it. 

Cop. By Jove, I’ve only just time to catch the 
mail. Good-bye, Davy. [ They stand hand in 
hand for some moments.\ I’ve left a couple of thou¬ 
sands at Coutts’ in your name. 

David. I shan’t use it. 

Cop. As you please. 






12 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT J 


David. How long shall you be away ? 

Cop. I shan’t come back till I’ve stood on 
Mount Saint Elias. Can I do anything for you ? 

David. Yes. Tell me the quality of the moon¬ 
shine on the top. 

Cop. The same quality as your moonshine here, 
and just as real. 

David. Is anything real ? [Looking at the fox- 
hunters and dancer j.] I’ve lived so long alone with 
only Eddie that the world has grown quite spectral 
to me. Look at these phantoms ! [. Pointing to 
the fox-hu?iters and da?icers.\ Is anything real, 
George ? 

Cop. Yes ; that two thousand at Coutts’. 

David. And friendship. Friendship is real, isn’t 
it? [Shaking hands.] God bless you, George. I’ll 
come to the station with you. 

[As he is going off Dulcik enters from bar y 
Sir Brice Skene follounng her. 

David. [Sees her.] No ! [Shakes hands.] 
Don’t break your neck over Mount Saint Elias ! 

Cop. Don’t break your heart over a woman ! 

David. Yes I shall. After all I’m only playing 
at life, and so I’ll break my heart over her—in 
play. 

Cop. Stick to your sun-spots ! [Exit. 

Sir Brice. [Catchmg sight of the subscription /ist.] 
What a confounded lot of widows and orphans 
there are in the world ! 


ACT 1 


THE MASQUERADERS 


J 3 


David. [ Sitting on the other side. ] Miss Laron- 
die is an orphan. 

Dul. Yes, or I shouldn’t be here. 1 wonder 
why all we superfluous women were sent into the 
world ! 

Sir Brice. [. Leaning over the bar.\ You are not 
superfluous. You are indispensable. 

Dul. To whom ? 

Sir Brice. To me. 

Dul. [ Makes a profound mock courtesy. ] You 
do me proud. [ Calls to David.] Mr. Remon, can 
you tell me why I was sent into the world ? 

David. To be indispensable to Sir Brice 
Skene. 

Sir Brice. [Aside to Dulcie.] Why do you 
talk to that fellow ? 

Dul. [Aside to Sir Brice.] Oh, he amuses me. 
1 can make such a fool of him, and—I’m so sick of 
this. 

Sir Brice. I’ll send you my new mare on Friday. 
Come to the meet. 

Dul. I daren’t. What would everybody say ? 

Sir Brice. What does it matter? I’ll send you 
the mare. 

Dul. No. They’d all cut me. Would your sis¬ 
ter chaperon me ? You know she wouldn’t. 

Sir Brice. My dear—you’ve made an awful 
mistake. 

Dul. Don’t call me your dear. I won’t have it. 

Sir Brice. [With a little laugh.] My dear, 


14 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


you’ve made an awful mistake, and there’s only 
one way out of it. 

Dul. I don’t wish to get out of it. Let them 
laugh at me, and cut me. I can bear it. 

Sir Brice. Don’t be a fool. If I were to offer 
you- [In a low voice .] 

Dul. [ Stops him.\ No. Pray don’t. I shan’t 
take it. 

Sir Brice. [Bending nearer to her. David has 
risen and come near to them.] But if I were to offer 
you- 

David. [To Sir Brice.] Will you give me those 
matches, please ? 

Sir Brice. [Leaning away from the bar.] Take 
them. [David takes them , walks back to table , seats 
himself at it. Sir Brice follows , seats himself at 
the other side of the tabled] 

Enter Jimmy Stokes, an old huntsman in an old 
hunting suit. 

Dul. Oh, Jimmy Jimmy Stokes, I'm so glad to 
see you ! How are you, Jimmy Jimmy Stokes? 

Jimmy. [Beaming old fellow of about seve?ity.] 
Oh, I’m just tol-lol, Miss, for a hold ’un. How’s 
yourself, Miss ? 

Dul. Oh, this isn’t myself, Jimmy. Myself ’s 
dead and buried, and when I come back to life I 
shall find this queer creature has been playing all 
sorts of mad pranks in my absence. Sit down, 
Jimmy Jimmy Stokes, and put a name on it. 




ACT 1 


THE MASQUERADERS 


l 5 


Jimmy. Well, just a little wee drop of gin, Miss, 
if I ain’t intruding. 

Dul. Intruding, Jimmy ? You ought to be wel¬ 
come at any meet of the Crandover. 

Jimmy. Head whip five and thirty years, I was. 
And thinks I, I’ll look in to-night. So I washes 
myself up, puts on my old whip’s coat, and here I 
be as bold as brass. You see, Miss, I be a privileged 
party, I be. Thank you, Miss—Woa, woa, Miss— 
woa ! 

[Sir Brice and David have been sitting 
at table , looking at each other. 

Sir Brice. You spoke ? 

David. No. [ The look is continued for so?ne mo¬ 
ments .] 

Sir Brice. \Folds his arms over the table , leans 
over the?n to David.] What the devil do you 
mean ? 

David. [.Folds his arms over the table so that they 
meet Sir Brice’s, leans over them so that the two 
mens faces almost touchd\ I mean to kill you if 
you dishonour her. 

Sir Brice. You’ll kill me? 

David. I’ll kill you. 

Sir Brice. I’ll have her one way or the other. 

David. You’re warned. [Sir Brice rises, goes 
towards Dulcie, is about to speak to her. David 
turns round and looks at him. Sir Brice stops , calls 
out to Dulcie, who is talking over the bar to Jimmy 
Stokes.] 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


16 


Sir Brice. Miss Larondie, I'll send you the 
mare on Friday. [ Exit into ball-room. Dulcie 
shakes her head , Sir Brice looks at David and 
exit. \ 

Jimmy. Well, here’s luck to you, Miss, and I wish 
I could see you going across the country with the 
C. H. as you used—that’s all the harm I wish you, 
for you was a sweet, pretty figure on horseback, you 
was, and you rode straight, you and your father, 
wire and all—you rode straight. 

Dul. Don’t remind me of old times, Jimmy. 

[ Turns to David mischievously .] Mr. Remon, it’s 

getting late. Isn’t it time you were going? 

David. [Rises.] Good-night. 

Dul. Good-night. \As he is passing out to door 
she calls out to him again .] Mr. Remon- 

David. [Stops. J 

Dul. I’ve something to say to you. 

David. [ Coming to her. ] What is it ? 

Dul. [Tapping her forehead impatiently .] It’s 
gone ! Would you mind waiting there till I think 
what it is ? 

David. Certainly. 

Dul. That’s so good of you. \Looks him up and 
down a little while mischievously. ] Can I give you a 
book while you wait ? Here’s “ Bradshaw,” the 
“ Turf Guide,” this week’s “ Sporting Times.” 

David. I shouldn’t understand it. I’ll look at 
you. 

Dul. Do you understand me ? 



ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


17 


David. Perfectly. 

Dul. I don’t understand you. 

David. You will some day. [ The dance has 
finished, and a crowd of young men dancers, Fan- 
court, Carter, Randall, Rodney, Sharland, 
and others, come chattering and laughing to the bar, 
and shout for drinks together .] 

Fan. I say, Miss Larondie, I’m dying for a whis¬ 
ky and soda. 

Car. Lemon squash. 

Ran. A baby bottle of jump. 

Rod. Brandy and soda. 

Fan. Don’t serve him. Miss Larondie. He’s 
three parts squiffy already. 

Rod. Shut up, Fan. 

Shar. A gin cocktail, Miss Larondie, and I’ll 
show you how to mix it. 

Fan. Don’t trust him, Miss. He wants to sneak 
a sample of your spirits for the public analyst. 

Rod. Serve me first, Miss Larondie, and I’ll give 
you a guinea for Dick Ramsden’s widow. \General 
hubbub and clatter. ] 

Dul. Order, order, gentlemen ! Jimmy Stokes, 
take this gentleman’s guinea and go round with this 
list, and see what you can get for poor Dick’s fa¬ 
mily. [Jimmy takes the subscription list, and is seen 
to go round with it to several of the bystanders, and 
talk to them in dumb show. ] 

Fan. I’ll come behind and help you, Miss. 
[Lifts up the lid of the counter, and tries to push ini\ 


i8 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT ! 


Rod. [. Pushing him back .] Sling, you animal ! 
I’m going to be under-barmaid here. [ They both 
push in behind the bar.] 

Pan. No, you don’t. Now, gents, your orders, 
and no larking with us poor unprotected females. 
[Ptitting his arm round Dulcie’s waist.] 

Helen Larondie enters and stands watching 
Dulcie. 

Dul. [. Indignantly to Fancourt.] How dare 
you ? 

Rod. [On the other side, puts his arm round her 
waist—to Fancourt.] How dare you ? 

Dul. [Disengaging herself indignantly.] Pass 
out ! Do you hear ? Pass out ! [ Showing them 

the way out. Sees Helen standing there , shows 
great shamed] Nell! 

Fan. [ Seizes Rodney by the collar and runs him 
out.] Pass out ! Do you hear? Pass out ! [ Runs 

him out of the bar.] 

Brinkler enters. 

Brin. Gentlemen ! Gentlemen ! If you please ! 
gentlemen ! If you please ! 

Dul. Mr. Brinkler, my sister has come for me. 
Would you mind waiting on these gentlemen ? 
[ They clamour round Brinkler, repeating their 
orders for drinks. Dulcie goes to her sister.] 

Dul. Nell ! [Kisses her.] 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


*9 


Helen. My dear. 

Dul. Come and talk to me. [ Takes her up ta 
where David is standing. She catches sight of David, 
who has been watching the scene with a mixture of 
bitterness and amusement. Seeing David.] Mr. 
Remon—I had forgotten you. 

David. You had such pleasant companions. 

Dul. I have wasted your time. 

David. It’s of no value. 

Dul. But I’m afraid I’ve made you rather fool¬ 
ish. 

David. In a w'orld of fools it’s a distinction to 
play the fool for you. In a world of shadows, 
what does it matter what part one plays ? Good¬ 
night. 

Dul. No, come again. 

David. It’s closing time. 

Dul. But we shall be late to-night. Come again 
by-and-by. 

David. By-and-by. [Exit, 

Helen. Who is that ? 

Dul. His name’s Remon. He has haunted the 
place for the last *month. He’s in love w’ith me, 

I can make him do any foolish thing I please. 
[Brinkler serves the young men with drinks. 7 he 
music strikes up again , and they gradually go off r 
leaving the stage with only Dulcie and Helen on 
iti] Nell, I’m so glad—what makes you come so 
late ! 

Helen. [A soft-voiced , gentle woman of about 


20 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


thirty, in a nurse s dress.] I’ve just had a telegram 
to go and nurse a typhoid case at Moorbrow, so I 
shan’t see you for a few weeks. You still like it 
here ? 

Dul. [Rather defiantly.] Yes. It’s livelier than 
being a governess, and it isn’t so horrid as nursing 
typhoid. 

Helen. [Smiling.] Dear, there’s nothing hor¬ 
rid about nursing. It’s just like a mother and her 
baby. 

Dul. How awfully sweet that must be. [Looking 
at her sister.] How patiently you take our come¬ 
down, Nell. Instead of rebelling and hating 
everybody as I do, you’ve just gone and nursed all 
these dirty people and made yourself quite happy 
over it. 

Helen. I’ve found out the secret of living. 

Dul. What’s that ? 

Helen. Forget yourself. Deny yourself. Re¬ 
nounce yourself. It’s out of the fashion just now. 
But some day the world will hear that message 
again. 

Dul. [Looking at Helen with admiratioji.] I 
wish I was good like you, Nell. No, I don’t. I 
don’t want to deny myself, or renounce myself, or 
forget myself. I want to enjoy myself, and to see 
life. That’s why I screwed up my courage and 
answered Brinkler’s advertisement, and came here. 

H elen. And are you enjoying yourself ? 

Dul. [ Defiantly .] Yes, after a fashion. I wish 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


2 I 


I was a man, or one of those girls upstairs. Why 
should they have all the pleasure and happiness of 
life ? 

Helen. You’re sure they have all the pleasure 
and happiness of life ? 

Dul. At any rate they’ve got what I want. Oh, 
how I long for life ! How I could enjoy it ! 
Hark ! [Dance music swells .] Isn’t that dance 
maddening ? I must dance ! [Begins l\ Oh, Nell, 
I was made for society ! Oh, for London ! for 
pleasure ! To be somebody in the world ! How 
I would worship any man who would raise me to a 
position ! And wouldn’t I repay him ! What 
parties I’d give ! I’d have all London at my feet! 
I could do it ! I know I could ! Oh, is there any¬ 
body who will take me out of this dead-alive hole 
and give me the life I was made for ? [ Flings her¬ 

self wildly round, half dancing, and drops her head 
into Helen’s lap sobbing .] 

Helen. \Stroking Dulcie’s hair, very softly .] 
My poor Dulcie ! I knew you were not happy 
here. 

Dul. I hate it ! I hate it ! Nell, don’t be sur¬ 
prised if I do something desperate before long. 

Helen. Dulcie, you’ll do nothing wrong. [Lift- 
ing up Dulcie’s head, looking keenly at her.] 

Dul. What do you mean? Nell, you know I 
wouldn’t. Kiss me, ducky. Say you know I 
wouldn’t. 


22 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


Helen. [Kisses her.'] I don’t think you would, 
but—when I came in and saw those two men- 

Dul. [Quickly.] Boys. They meant nothing. 
One has to put up with a good deal here. Men 
aren’t nice creatures. 

Helen. Dulcie, you must come away from this. 

Dul. Where ? What can I do ? I wish some¬ 
body would marry me. What wouldn’t I give to cut 
Lady Clarice as she cut me to-night ! 

Helen. Did she cut you ? 

Dul. Yes. She gave me one look—Nell, if she 
looks at ine again like that, I don’t care what hap¬ 
pens, I shall box her ears. 

Helen. Dulcie ! 

Dul. But if she cuts me, Sir Brice has cut her. 
And he pays me no end of attention. 

Helen. You are not growing friendly with Sir 
Brice ? 

Dul. No —yes—he’s always paying me compli¬ 
ments, and asking me to take presents. 

Helen. You haven’t taken his presents? 

Dul. No. Don’t fear, Nell, I’ll take nothing 
from him except—if he were really fond of me, I’d 
marry him, Nell. 

Helen. No, dear, no. He’s not a good man. 

Dul. Nell, there aren’t any good men left in the 
world. The race is extinct. I daresay Sir Brice is 
as good as the rest, and if he were to ask me I 
should say “ yes.” [Helen shakes her head .] Yes 
I should, Nell. And I should make him a good 



ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


2 3 


wife, Nell, for there are the makings of a good wife 
in me. I should say “yes,” and oh, wouldn’t I 
like to see Lady Clarice’s face when she hears the 
news. 

Helen. I hope he won’t ask you, Dulcie. 

Dul. Stranger things have happened. 

Helen. I must be going. I’ve to watch a fever 
case to-night. 

Dul. \Twining Helen’s arms round her neck.\ 
I wish I could have a fever. 

Helen. Dulcie ! 

Dul. It would be so lovely to be nursed by you. 
[.Hugging her.] I shall never love a man as 1 love 
you, Nell. But I suppose that’s a different kind 
of love. [Helen sighs. ] What makes you sigh ? 

Helen. Good-bye, Dulcie. 

Dul. Good-bye, you dear, nice, soft, warm, com¬ 
forting thing. You’re as good as a boa, or a muff, 
or a poultice to me. I’ll let you out this way. It’s 
nearer for you. 

[Exeunt Helen and Dulcie through bar. 

Sir Brice enters from ball-room, followed by Lady 
Crandover, Lady Clarice following. Lady 
Clarice goes and sits down quite apart. 

Lady Cran. Sir Brice ! 

Sir Brice. [Turns, stops.] 

Lady Cran. [ Somewhat embarrassed .] Do you 
know what people are saying of you ? 


2-4 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


Sir Brice. I haven’t an idea. But whatever it 
is, don’t stop them. [Going.] 

Lady Cran. [Stops him.] Sir Brice. All 
through the season you have paid the most marked 
attention to Clarice. 

Sir Brice. I admire Lady Clarice immensely. 
1 have a very ingenuous nature, and perhaps I al¬ 
lowed it to become too apparent. 

Lady Cran. You allowed it to become so appa¬ 
rent that everyone in the county supposed as an 
honourable man- 

Sir Brice. Ah, that’s a nice point, isn’t it? If 
Crandover thinks I have behaved dishonourably, the 
Englishman’s three remedies are open to him—he 
can write a letter to the “Times,” or he can bring 
an action, or—he can horsewhip me. Personally, 
I’m indifferent which course he takes. Excuse me. 
[Goes off into the bar.] 

Lady Cran. [Enraged, and almost in tears , goes 
to Clarice.] My dear, he’s a brute ! What an 
awful life his wife will have ! 

Lady Clar. Then why did you run after him ? 
Why did you let me encourage him ? 

Lady Cran. Clarice, he has twenty thousand a 
year. 

Lady Clar. But everybody says he’ll run 
through it in a few years. He lost fifty thousand 
on the Leger alone. 

Lady Cran. I know. Oh yes, he’ll soon get 
through it. Well now you’ve lost him, it’s a great 



ACT 


THE MASQUERADERS 


2 5 


comfort to think what a perfect brute he is. You’ve 
had a lucky escape. 

Dulcie re-enters from bar. Jimmy re-enters 7wth 
subscriptioti list, and a crowd of young fellows 
folloioing him. 

Lady Clar. [Watching Dulcie] Yes, but I 
don’t like being thrown aside for that miss there. 

Enter from ball-room Monty, Charley Wishan- 
GER, a?id other dancers gradually. 

I)ul. What luck, Jimmy? 

Ji mmy. [Shakes his head .] 

Dul. [ Takes the subscription list from him. ] Oh, 
Jimmy Jimmy Stokes, when we keep a Punch and 
Judy show, I’ll never send you round with the hat. 

Jimmy. Ah, Miss, we know how you could get a 
peck of money for ’em—don’t we, Mr. Fancourt ? 

Fan. By Jove, yes. Jimmy has made a splendid 
suggestion, Miss Larondie. The only question is, 
will you agree to it? 

Dul. What is it, Jimmy ? 

Jimmy. You back me up, Miss, that’s all, will 
you ? 

Dul. Certainly. Anything to keep Mrs. Rams- 
den and her chickabiddies out of the workhouse. 
I always feel, you know, Jimmy, that it was through 
me that Dick was killed. 

Fan. Through you, Miss Larondie ? 

Dul. I was leading across Drubhill. I took the 


2 6 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


drop into the road. Dick was next behind. His 
horse stumbled and [shudders] they picked him up 
dead. [All the young fellows have crowded round 
and llsten.\ 

Jimmy. ’Twas me as picked him up if you re¬ 
member, Miss, and took him home, 1 did, ah, it's 
three years ago last February, yes, and I broke the 
news to his wife, I did, and what’s more, I helped 
to lay Dick out, I did, and I says to his wife, “ Don’t 
take on now, you foolish woman,” I says, “why,” I 
says, “ it might have been felo-de-se .” But it were 
a nasty drop jump, Miss, a nasty drop jump. 

Dul. And if I hadn’t taken it, perhaps Dick 
might have been alive now. 

Jimmy. Not he, not he. Dick ’d have drunk 
himself to death before this. He was a royal soul, 
Dick was. And if you’ll only back me up, we’ll 
raise a little fortune for Mrs. Ramsden in no time. 

Dul. Very well, Jimmy. But what is this plan, 
eh, Mr. Fancourt? 

Fan. Tell her, Jimmy. You started it. 

Jimmy. Well, Miss, seeing all these young gents 
here, it struck me as, human nature being what it 
is, and no getting over it, no offence I hope to any¬ 
body, but if you was to offer to sell one, mind you, 
only one, of your kisses to the highest bidder- 

Dul. [Indignantly .] What ? 

Mon. A very excellent and original suggestion ! 

Dul. The idea ! What nonsense ! 

Fan. Nonsense? I call it a jolly good idea. 



ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


2 -\ 


Shar. Splendid ! By Jove, we’ll carry it out 
too. 

Dul. Indeed we won’t. Jimmy, give me that 
list. [Takes the subscription list from Jimmy.] 
Mr. Fancourt will give me something, I’m sure. 

Fan. I should be delighted, but [nudging Shar- 
land] fact is, I’ve promised Sharland I wouldn’t 
give anything except on the conditions Jimmy 
Stokes has just laid down. 

Dul. Mr. Sharland. 

Shar. Very sorry, Miss Larondie, but fact is 
[nudging Fancourt] I’ve promised Fancourt I 
wouldn’t give anything except on the conditions 
Jimmy Stokes has laid down. [Dulcie turns away 
indignantly, sees Lady Crandover and Lady 
Clarice, hesitates a moment , then goes somewhat 
defiantly to them .] 

Dul. Lady Crandover, may I beg you for a 
small subscription to Dick Ramsden’s widow and 
children ? 

Lady Cran. [ Very coolly. ] I always leave such 
things to Lord Crandover. [ Turns away.] 

Dul. Perhaps Lady Clarice- 

Lady Clar. I thought I heard someone propose 
a way in which you could raise some money. 

Sir Brice. [Coming from bar.] Raise some 
money ? What’s the matter here? 

Fan. Jimmy Stokes has just proposed that Miss 
Larondie should benefit the Dick Ramsden fund 
by selling a kiss by auction. 



28 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT 


Sir Brice. What does Miss Larondie say ? 

Dul. Impossible ! 

Mon. Not in the least. If you will allow me, 
gentlemen, I will constitute myself auctioneer. 
[7i> Dulcie.] I beg you will place yourself en¬ 
tirely in my hands, Miss Larondie. Trust to my 
good tact to bring this affair to a most successful 
issue. After all, it’s not so indelicate as slumming 

Dul. No, no ! 

Mon. Allow me. A rostrum. Tnat wine case. 
[A wine case is brought forward from side.\ And that 
barrel, if you please. A hammer. \A large mallet, 
such as is used for hammering bungs in beer barrels 
is given to himi\ Thank you. \He mounts.] Ladies 
and gentlemen. [ Chorus of “hear, hear .”] We 
must all admit that the methods of raising the 
wind for all sorts of worthless persons and useless 
charities stand in need of entire revision. Fancy 
fairs, amateur theatricals, tableaux vivants, and 
such grotesque futilities have had their day. In 
the interests of those long-suffering persons who 
get up charity entertainments, and those yet more 
long-suffering persons who attend them, it is high 
time to inaugurate a new departure. [Cries of 
“ hear, hear .”] Ladies and gentlemen, there are 
three questions I take it which we ask ourselv.s 
when we raise a charitable subscription. Firstly, 
how shall we advertise ourselves, or amuse our¬ 
selves, as the case may be ? Secondly, how far 
shall we be able to fleece our friends and the 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


29 


public ? Thirdly, is the charity a deserving one ? 
—The only really vital question of the three is 
“ How shall we amuse ourselves in the sacred cause 
of charity ? [ Cries of “ hear, hear .”] 

Lord Cran. Lushington, stop this nonsense be¬ 
fore it goes any further ! Do you hear? 

Mon. Ladies and gentlemen, I am in your hands. 
Shall I go on ? [. Loud cries of “ Yes, yes—Go on — 

Go on, Monty—Go on, Lushington .”] 

Lady Cran. [ To Lady Clarice.] Now she’ll 
disgrace herself. 

Sir Brice. [ Having oiierheard. ] What did you 
say, Lady Crandover ? 

Lady Cran. Nothing, Sir Brice. 

Sir Brice. I understood you to say that Miss 
Larondie would disgrace herself. 

Dul. [ With shame. ] Oh ! Sir Brice, please let 
me go ! 

David Rem on enters. Dulcie going off comes- 
face to face with him — stops . 

Sir Brice. No, stay. Don’t take any notice of 
what has been said. 

David. What has been said ? 

Sir Brice. What business is it of yours ? Miss 
Larondie is a connection of my family. Go on 
Lushington—Go on. We’ll have this auction— 
it’s in the cause of charity, isn’t it ? Go on ! 

David. [TV Montagu.] What auction? What 
charity ? 


30 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


Mon. [Soothingly.] Gentlemen, gentlemen, we 
are taking this far too seriously. Pray be calm and 
allow me to proceed. [Cries of Hear ! Hear !— 
Go on, Monty /”] In an age when, as all good 
moralists lament, love is so often brought into the 
market, the marriage market—and other markets— 
and is sold to the highest bidder, it would, I am 
convinced, require a far more alarming outrage on 
propriety than that which we are now about to 
commit, to cause the now obsolete and unfashion¬ 
able blush of shame to mount into the now obso¬ 
lete and unfashionable cheek of modesty. Gentle¬ 
men, without further ado I offer for your competi¬ 
tion—one kiss from Miss Larondie. [. Movement on 
the part of David. Sir Brice and he stand con¬ 
fronting each other.] One kiss from Miss Larondie. 
What shall I say, gentlemen ? 

Fan. A sovereign. 

Mon. A sovereign is offered. I will on my own 
account advance ten shillings. Thirty shillings is 
offered, gentlemen. 

Shar. Thirty-five shillings. 

Mon. I cannot take an advance of less than ten 
shillings on this lot. Shall I say two pounds ? 
[Sharland nods.] 

Sir Brice. A fiver. [David steps forward 
towards Sir Brice.] 

Mon. Thank you. A fiver. You are trifling, 
gentlemen. 

Fan. Six. 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


31 


Mon. Six guineas—guineas only. Six guineas 
is offered. Gentlemen, if you do not bid up, in 
justice to my client I must withdraw the lot. 

Shar. Seven. 

Sir Brice. Ten. 

Mon. Ten guineas. Gentlemen, only ten guineas 
—only ten guineas for this rare and genuine, this 
highly desirable- 

David. Twenty guineas. 

Mon. Twenty guineas. Thank you, sir. This 
gentleman sees the quality of the article I am sub¬ 
mitting— 

Sir Brice. Thirty. 

Mon. Thirty guineas. Gentlemen, is the age of 
chivalry dead ? Mr. Fancourt, you are credited 
with some small amount of prowess among helpless 
ladies- 

Shar. Cut in, Fan. 

Fan. Thirty-one. 

Mon. Cannot take advances of less than five 
guineas. Thirty-five guineas. Gentlemen, will you 
force me to expatiate further on this exquisite- 

David. Forty. 

Sir Brice. Fifty. [David and Sir Brice are 
getting nearer to each other. ] 

Lord Cran. Lushington, this is enough. This 
is getting beyond a joke. 

Mon. Then it’s the only thing in life that ever 
did, so we’ll continue. Bid up, gentlemen, bid up. 
I am assured, gentlemen, by my client, the vendor, 






32 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


that on no account will this lot ever be duplicated. 
I am therefore offering you a unique opportunity 
of purchasing what I will venture to describe as the 
most- 

David. Sixty. 

Sir Brice. Seventy. 

Lord Cran. Enough—enough ! Stop this jest. 

Mon. Jest ? I presume you are in earnest, gen¬ 
tlemen, about the purchase of this lot ? 

David. I am. 

Sir Brice. Go on, go on. 

Mon. Seventy guineas, seventy guineas. Gen¬ 
tlemen, you have not all done ? Mr. Fanc'ourt, 
faint heart- 

Shar. Have another shy, Fan. 

Fan. Seventy-five. 

Mon. Seventy-five. Going at seventy-five guineas 
—the only chance ; going at seventy-five guineas. 

Fan. I say, Bricey, don’t let me in. 

Sir Brice. Eighty. [Looking at David.] 

David. Ninety. 

Sir Brice. A hundred. [Getting close to David.] 

David. Two hundred. 

Sir Brice. Three hundred. 

Lord Cran. Skene, come away, do you hear ? 
come away. [ Trying to drag Sir Brice away.\ 

Sir Brice. Let me be. What’s the last bidding, 
Lushington ? 

Mon. Three hundred guineas. 

Sir Brice. Five. 



ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


33 


David. A thousand. 

Sir Brice. Fifteen hundred. 

David. 'Two thousand. 

Sir Brice. Three, and [growling] be damned to 
you. [Pause.] Knock it down, Lushington. 
[ Long pause. David shows disappointment .] 

Mon. Three thousand guineas is offered, gentle¬ 
men. [Pause.] No further bid ? Going at three 
thousand guineas. Going, going. [Knocks it 
dou>n.\ Sir Brice, the lot is yours at three thou¬ 
sand guineas. 

Sir Brice. Brinkler, pens, ink, and paper and a 
stamp. [ Stepping towards barrel. David comes to 
him. ] You’ve no further business here. 

David. Yes, I think. [Pens, ink , and paper are 
brought A? Sir Brice ; he hastily dashes off the cheque , 
gives it to Montagu.] 

Mon. Thank you. Miss Larondie, a cheque for 
three thousand guineas. You have secured an an¬ 
nuity for your protegees. 

Dul. [Refusing the cheque .] No. 

Sir Brice. Miss Larondie. [David looks at 
him.\ It will perhaps save any further miscon¬ 
struction if I tell these ladies and gentlemen that 
an hour ago I asked you to do me the honour to 
become my wife. [General surprise .] 

Dul. Sir Brice- 

Sir Brice. Will you do me the favour to take that 
cheque for your charity, and the further favour of 
becoming Lady Skene ? [Montagu offers the 


l 



34 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


cheque. A pause. Dulcie looks round, looks at 
Lady Clarice, takes the cheque .] 

Dul. Thank you, Sir Brice. I shall be very 
proud. [David shows quiet despair. Goes to back. 
Half the guests crowd round Sir Brice and Dulcie, 
congratulating. The others show surprise , interest, 
and amazement 

Lady Cran. [In a very loud voice .] My carriage 
at once. 

Lord Cran. [In a low voice to her.] We’d better 
stay and make the best of it. 

Lady Cran. No, my carriage. Come, Clarice. 
[Goes off. A good many of the guests follow her.] 

[Exeunt Lady Clarice and Lord Cran- 
dover. 

Sir Brice. [To Fancourt.] The, Crandovers 
have gone off in a huff. Bet you a tenner they’ll 
dine with me before three months. 

Fan. Done ! [The band strikes up. A general 
movement of those who remain towards the ball-room.] 

Sir Brice. [To Dulcie.] If you will allow me, 
I will place you in my sister’s care. She’s in the 
ball-room. 

Dul. [Looking at her dress.] No, Sir Brice, not 
yet. I’ve one of my old evening dresses upstairs. 
May I put it on ? 

Sir Brice. Yes, if you like. I’ll wait for you at 
the ball-room door. 

Dul. I won’t be a moment. [Running off with 


ACT 1 


THE MASQ JERADERS 


35 


great excitement and delight. All the guests move 
towards the ball-room 

Mon. [ To Sir Brice.] Congratulate you heart¬ 
ily, Sir Brice. [ Offering handd\ 

Sir Brice. [ Taking /'/.] Oh, I suppose it’s all 
right. 

Char. [ To Sir Brice.] Your wooing was charm¬ 
ingly fresh and original, Sir Brice. 

Sir Brice. Think so ? [Turns away.\ 

Char. [To Monty.] What on earth does he 
want to marry the girl for? 

Mon. Somebody has bet him a guinea he 
wouldn’t. 

Exeunt Charley and Montagu i?tto the ball¬ 
room. 

Fan. Bravo, Bricey, my boy ! This’ll make up 
to you for losing the Leger. 

Sir Brice. Think so ? I’ll go and get a smoke 
outside. [Exit at gates. 

Shar. [To Fancourt.] Just like Bricey to do 
a silly fool’s trick like this. 

Fan. I pity the girl. Bricey will make a sweet 
thing in husbands. 

Shar. By Jove, yes. Her life ’ll be a regular 
beno, and no mistake. 

[Exeunt into ball-room. David is left alone 
sitting at back. 


3 6 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


Enter Eddie. David drinks and laughs rather 
bitterly to himself. 

Eddie. What’s gone wrong, Davy ? 

David. Miss Larondie is going to marry Sir 
Brice Skene. 

Eddie. Oh, then the solar system .is all out of 
joint ! Poor old big brother ! 

David. I won’t feel it, Eddie, I won’t feel it. 

Eddie. Yes you will, Davy. Yes you will. Why 
weren’t you tumbled into Mars, or Jupiter, or Sa¬ 
turn, or into any world but this ? 

David. Why ? 

Eddie. This is the very worst world that ever 
spun round for a man who has a heart. Look at 
all the heartless and stupid people ; what a paradise 
this is for them ! 

David. I’ll forget her and plunge into my work. 
There are millions of new worlds to discover. 

Eddie. Yes, but are they all like this ? be¬ 
cause if they are, what’s the use of discovering 
millions more of them ? Oh, Davy, isn’t there one 
perfect world out of all the millions—just one— 
where everything goes right, and fiddles pever play 
out of tune ? 

David. There isn’t one, Eddie, not one of all 
the millions. They’re all alike. 

Eddie. And breaking hearts in all of them ? 
Oh, let’s pretend there’s just one perfect star some¬ 
where, shall we ? 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


37 


David. Oh, very well; let’s pretend there’s one 
in the nebula of Andromeda. It’s a long way off, 
and it does no harm to pretend. Besides, it makes 
the imbroglio of the universe complete if there is 
one perfect world somewhere in it. 

Sir Brice enters smoking , throws away his cigarette, 
looks at David rather insolently , goes into the 
ball-room. 

David. [Starts up.] If he doesn’t treat her well 
—[goes after him, stops, comes back\ —what does it 
matter? It’s all a farce, but if he doesn’t treat her 
well, I feel, Eddie, I could put a murder into the 
farce, just for fun. 

Eddie. Come home, Davy. 

David. Let me be, my boy. It’s only a pin¬ 
prick. I shall get over it. 

Eddie. I wish I could bear it for you, Davy. 

David. That would only mean your heart break¬ 
ing instead of mine. 

Eddie. Don’t you think I’d break my heart for 
you, Davy ? 

Dul. [ Her voice heard off.'] Thanks ! I can’t 
wait ! Sir Brice is waiting for me ! 

Eddie. Poor old big brother ! [Exit. 

Enter Dulcie down the stairs in evening dress, ex¬ 
cited, radiant. 

Dul. [Seeing David.] I thought you’d gone. 
Did you hear ? I’m to be Lady Skene. Do I look 


3» 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT I 


nice ? [ Very excited .] I beg your pardon—I don’t 
know what I’m saying. [Looks round.\ I wish 
there was a looking-glass here. I wonder where 
Sir Brice is—I’m to be Lady Skene—won’t you 
congratulate me ? 

David. I hope you will be happy. 

Dul. No, congratulate me. 

David. I hope you will be happy. 

Dul. Ah, you think I shan’t be happy? Then 
I will, just to spite you ! 

David. Ah, do spite me and be happy. 

Dul. [Fidgeting with her dress.] I’m sure my 
dress isn’t right. Wasn’t that a jest about the kiss ? 

David. A great jest. 

Dul. You wouldn’t have really given two thou¬ 
sand guineas for a kiss from me ? 

David. [Nods.] Why not ? Sir Brice gave fifty 
thousand for the pleasure of losing the Leger. 

Dul. But he stood to win. 

David. So did 1. 

Dul. What ? 

David. The kiss. 

Dul. But you wouldn’t really have given two 
thousand guineas for it ? 

David. [Nods.] I think highly of women. It’s 
a pleasing delusion of mine. Don’t disturb it. 

Dul. [Looking at him, after a little pause.] You 
are the strangest creature, but what a splendid 
friend you’d make ! I’m keeping Sir Brice waiting. 
[ Turns round, sees that the lace on the skirt of her 


ACT I 


THE MASQUERADERS 


39 


dress is hanging loose .] Look at that lace ! What 
can I do ? {Giving him a pin.\ Would you mind 
pinning that lace on my skirt ? 

David. [ Takes the pin, ktieels, and pins the lace .] 
Will that do ? 

Dul. Thank you so much. Do I look nice ? \He 
looks up at her imploringly, like a dumb creature j she 
glances swiftly round to see that they are alone, sud¬ 
denly bends and kisses him; runs up the ball-room 
steps. A burst of dance-music. ] 

Three years and a half pass between Acts I. and //. 


4 ° 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


ACT II. 

Scene. Reception Room at Lady Skene's. A great 
crowd in further room. Discover Lady Cran- 
dover, Lady Clarice, Charley Wishanger 
(now Lady Shalford), Montagu, Fancourt, 
Sharland, and the young men of the first act. 
Among the guests in further roo7ti Sir Winch- 
more Wills and the Hon. Percy Blanch- 
flower. 

Lady Crandover. [. Looking offi] It’s astound¬ 
ing. 

Char. What is ? 

Lady Cran. 'The way everyone runs after this 
woman. She’s got everybody here again to-night. 

Lady Clar. Professor Rawkinson and the Bishop 
of Malmesbury were fighting to get her an ice. 
Char. What is the secret of her popularity ? 
Mon. Why did you come here to-night ? 

Char. I ? Oh, I came because everybody else 
comes. Why did you ? 

Mon. Because everybody else comes. Do we 
ever have any other reason for going anywhere, 
admiring anything, saying anything, or doing any¬ 
thing? The secret of getting a crowd to your 


ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


4 1 


rooms is, “ Entice a bell-wether.’’ 'The flock will 
follow. 

Char Who was bell-wether to Lady Skene? 

Mon. The old Duchess of Norwich. 

Lady Cran. I suppose the duchess knows all 
about Lady Skene’s antecedents? 

Mon. What does it matter about anybody’s an¬ 
tecedents to-day ? 

Lady Cran. We must draw the line somewhere. 

Mon. On the contrary, my dear Lady Cran- 
dover, we must not draw the line anywhere. We 
have yet got to learn w^hat democracy means. 

Lady Clar. What does democracy mean ? 

Mon. That there is no line to be drawn, either 
socially, morally, pecuniarily, politically, religiously, 
or anywhere. 

Lady Clar. How horrid ! [ Turns away.] 

Mon. [Continuing.] Who are the interesting 
people here to-night ? Of course there’s a crowd 
of respectable nonentities—But who are the attrac¬ 
tions ? Attraction number one : a financier’s wife 
— the most charming woman in the world—gives 
the very best dinners in London —had an extensive 
acquaintance amongst the officers at Aldershot 
fifteen years ago. 

The Hon. Percy Blanchflower, a fussy, huzzy , 
mincing, satirical little creature, with a finicking, 
feminine maimer and gestures, has overheard, 
comes up to the group. 


4 2 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


Blan. What’s this ?—eh ?—hum ? no scandal, [ 
trust ? 

Mon. No, Blanchflower; no scandal—only the 
plain, unvarnished truth about all our friends. 

Blan. Ah, then I’ll stay and listen. Go on ! 

Mon. Attraction number two : leading temper¬ 
ance and social purity orator—can move an audi¬ 
ence of ten thousand to tears—leads the loosest of 
lives—and is suspected of having poisoned his wife. 

Blan. But she had a fearful cockney accent. 
And he’s very kind to his aged aunt and pretty 
niece—eh?—hum? Give him his due. 

Mon. My dear Blanchflower, I’m not blaming 
the man for poisoning his wife. It may have been 
a necessity of his position ; and if she had a cock¬ 
ney accent, it was a noble thing to do. Attraction 
number three : pretty little lady who has just 
emerged triumphantly from the Divorce Court, 
without a spot upon her pretty little character. 

Attraction number four- [Lady Clarice rejoins 

the groups 

Eddie enters from conservatory , and without joining 

group is near enough to hear what is being said. 

Blan. [Interrupting^ No ! No ! Skip number 
four ! We know all about her. Attraction num¬ 
ber five ! And mind, I shall thoroughly scold you 
all—when Lushington has got through his list. 

Mon. [Proceeding^] Attraction number five : im¬ 
pressionist artist, novelist, and general dirty mo- 



ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


43 


dern dabbler—is consummately clever—a consistent 
scoundrel in every relation of life—especially to 
women—a liar, a cheat, a drunkard—and a great 
personal friend of my own. 

Blan. Oh, this is too shocking ! This is really 
too shocking! 

Lady Clar. You’ve omitted the chief attraction 
to-night—our famous astronomer. [Eddie shows 
itier eased attention .] 

Mon. Remon ? 

Blan. Of course. Since his great discovery 
we’ve only one astronomer in England. 

Char. What was his great discovery ? 

Blan. Don’t know. Some new spots on Venus, 
I believe. 

Mon. No. That she wanted a new belt to hide 
the manners of her inhabitants, which were dis¬ 
tinctly visible through his new large telescope, and 
if constantly observed would tend to the corrup¬ 
tion of London society. 

Blan. You naughty person ! You’re not to look 
through that telescope ! 

Mon. My dear Blanchflower, I have ; and I as¬ 
sure you we have nothing to fear. But I tremble 
for the morals of Venus if they get a telescope as 
large as Remon’s and begin to look at us. 

Blan. Tell me, this friendship of the astronomer 
with Lady Skene—eh ? hum ?—quite innocent— 
eh? 

Mon. I have never known any friendship be- 


44 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


tween a man and a married woman that was not 
innocent. How can it be guilty, unless the woman 
is ugly ? 

Lady Clar. Poor dear Lady Skene is fearfully 
ill-used, I hear. [Sir Winchmore Wills, a fa¬ 
shionable middle-aged physician , conies up and joins 
the group .] I’ve heard that Sir Brice gets drunk 
and—then—dreadful things happen. 

Blan. But that can’t be true—eh ? hum ?—Sir 
Winchmore—eh ? 

Sir Win. I have never treated Sir Brice for alco¬ 
holism, nor Lady Skene for bruises. 

Blan. No, of course, no—but you’ve heard— 
hum ? eh ? 

Sir Win. Singularly enough, I have never heard 
or seen anything in the least discreditable to any 
one of my patients. 

Char. I know for a fact Sir Brice came a ter¬ 
rific cropper last week at Epsom, and doesn’t know 
how he stands. [Eddie is listening attentively .] 

Blan. And—hum—the astronomer—hum ? eh ? 
hum ?—is there any truth—eh ? 

Mon. Well, we know that our astronomer suc¬ 
ceeded a few months ago to an immense fortune 
left him by a mountaineering friend in Canada. 
We know that Sir Brice neglects his wife and is 
practically ruined. We know that Lady Skene 
continues her parties, her household, her carriages, 
and we know that our astronomer pays [Long pause.] 
the greatest attentions to Lady Skene. Of course 


ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


45 


this doesn't absolutely prove Lady Skene’s guilt— 
yet why should we deprive ourselves of the pleasure 
of believing and circulating a spicy story about 
our friends merely because there is only the very 
slightest foundation for it? [Eddie rises rather 
indignantly and comes a little nearer to the group 
until out being noticed by them .] 

13 lan. Oh this is very naughty of us. We are 
actually talking scandal about our hostess. We 
ought to be ashamed of ourselves ! 

Lady Cran. Really, it’s time somebody made a 
stand, or society will be ruined. Here is a woman 
who was actually a barmaid at a public-house—her 
name is in everybody’s mouth in connection with 

this astronomer, and yet- 

Mon. And yet we crush to her receptions. At 
least you do, Lady Crandover. 

Lady Cran. Oh, we are all to blame for lower¬ 
ing the moral tone of society as we are doing. 

Elan. Oh, my dear Lady Crandover, please, 
please, please, do not make things unpleasant by 
dragging in morality. But where is the astronomer? 
—eh ? hum ? 

Eddie. My brother will be coming bv-and-by. 
I’ll tell him lie’s wanted here. 

[ Exit. Blanch flower looks aghast and 
stares round at all the rest who show 
some slight discomfiture . Fan court and 
Sharland join the group. 



4 6 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


Blan. Dear me ! That’s the astronomer’s brother. 
Have we said anything ?—hum ? eh ? 

Mon. My dear Blanchflower, what does it matter 
what lies we tell about each other when none of 
our friends think any the worse of us if they are 
true ! 

Blan. Oh, but it’s very wrong to tell lies, very 
wrong indeed. I’ve not seen Sir Brice to-night. 
Where is he ? eh ? 

Fan. Bricey doesn’t generally stay very long at 
his wife’s receptions. 

Shar. Bricey’s latest little hobby is teaching the 
girls at the Folly Theatre to box. 

Fan. Yes. Last Tuesday he was in great force 
at the Ducks and Drakes Club egging on Betty 
Vignette to fight Sylvia Vernon. 

Shar. Oh that’s coming off—two hundred a side, 
on Sunday night week. 

Fan. [Cautiously winking at Sharland, in a 
warning 7vay.\ I say old chap, keep it quiet. I 
wonder where Bricey is to-night. 

Mon. What does it matter whether he is playing 
baccarat with the pot-boy at the corner, or clandes¬ 
tinely taking his nurse-girl to the Alhambra on the 
pretence that it is a missionary meeting ? We may 
be quite sure that Bricey is doing something equally 
vicious, stupid, disreputable, and—original. 

Char. \To Monty.] Come here, you monster. 
Have you heard the news ? [During the conver- 


ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


47 


sation of Charley and Monty the other group put 
their heads together and whisper .] 

Mon. What ? 

Char. Sir Joseph is going to leave the March- 
moor estates to Clarice. 

Mon. [ glancing at Lady Clarice.] Sure ? 

Char. Fact. The will is to be signed in a few 
days. Clarice told me so in confidence. 

Mon. Thanks. [Strolls cautiously up to Lady 
Clarice, hovers about her till he gets a chance of 
speaking to her. A general laugh from the group.] 

Blan. [Who has been in centre of groups Oh this 
is very shocking ! We are actually talking scandal 
about our host. And he has his good points. He 
hasn’t strangled his baby, has he, Sir Winchmore? 

Sir Win. Sir Brice has the greatest consideration 
for the welfare of his offspring. [Dulcie comes 
from other room magnificently dressed , restless, pale, 
nervous, excited .] He never goes near it. [An awk¬ 
ward little pause as they see Dulcie. Lady Clarice 
goes up to her.] 

Lady Clar. What a lot of interesting folks you 
always have, dear. [Looking off through eye-glass.] 
Who is that lady in pale blue ? 

Dul. Mrs. Chalmers. 

Lady Clar. The lady who has figured so much 
in the newspapers lately ? What a singular gift you 
have of attracting all sorts of people, dear. 

Dul. Have I? That’s sometimes a misfortune. 


48 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


Lady Clar. Yes, it does involve one in undesir¬ 
able acquaintances and relationships. 

Dul. Still it must be rather annoying to be with¬ 
out it. [Goes restlessly to Sir Winchmore. Lady 
Clarice shows slight mortification. Monty, who 
has been watchmg the scene, goes up to her.] 

Mon. Lady Clarice, let me give you some sup¬ 
per. [ Takes her off. 

Dul. [ Taking Sir Winchmore a little aside.] 
Sir Winchmore—so kind of you to come. [In a half 
whisper.] That sleeping drought’s no use—you must 
send me a stronger one. 

Sir Win. [Shakes his head.] Lady Skene- 

Dul. [Impetuously.] Yes, yes, please—I must 
have it—I’ve not slept for three nights. 

Sir Win. Lady Skene, let me beg you- 

Dul. No, no, no,—you must patch me up and 
keep me going somehow till the end of the season, 
then you shall do what you like with me. 

Sir Win. But Lady Skene- 

Dul. [Intense suppressed nervousness .] But— [Im¬ 
ploringly.] Oh, don’t contradict me.—When anyone 
speaks to me I feel I must shriek out “Yah, yah, 
yah ! ” [Blanchflower has been following her up 
and has overheard the last speech. Dulcie sees that 
Blanchflower is looking at her , controls herself 
after an immense effort , puts on society smile. To 
Blanchflower.] The bishop was talking to me 
just now about his mission to convert the West 
End of London, and I could scarcely keep from 





49 


act ii THE MASQUERADERS 

shrieking out to him “ Yah, yah, yah ! ” Isn’t it 
strange ? 

Blan. Not at all. Clergymen always produce 
that effect upon me. 

Dul. [Turning to Sir Winchmore.] Sir Winch- 
more, you’ll run up to the nursery and see Rosy 
before you go, won’t you ? 

Sir Win. What’s the matter ? 

Dul. Nothing, only a little tumble and a bruise. 
My sister Nell is with her, but you’ll just see her ? 
Sir Win. Certainly. 

Dul. I’m so foolish about her. [ Imploringly .] 
She is strong and healthy, isn’t she? 

Sir Win. A magnificent child. 

Sir Brice has entered through other room. He looks 
coarser and more dissipated than in first Act , a?id 
is more brutalized. There is a slight movement 
of all the guests away from him . 

Dul. [Not seeing Sir Brice. To Sir Winch- 
more.] Really ? Really ? 

Sir Win. Really. Sir Brice and you may well be 
proud of her. [Sir Brice’s entrance has caused an 
awkward pause a??io?igst the guest si] 

Sir Win. We were talking of your youthful 
daughter, Sir Brice. 

Sir Brice. I hate brats. [Another awkward 
pause.] 

Dul. [ To cover it , rattles away with forced gaiety.] 
We shall see you at Ascot, of course, Mr. Blanch- 


5° 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ART ir 


flower.—Sir Winchmore, what are these frightful 
new waters that you are sending all your patients 
to ?—That reminds me, Lady Shalford, how is Sir 
Digby’s gout ? [ Slight continued movement of the 

guests away fro7n Sir Brice.] 

Char. Terrible. I pack him off to Aix on 
Thursday. 

Dul. [Same tone. ] So sorry he couldn’t come 
to-night. 

Char. My dear, I’m very glad, and so I’m sure is 
everybody who knows him. If Aix doesn’t cure 
him, I shall try something drastic. 

Sir Brice. [Comes a little nearer , slight instinctive 
repulsion of alii] Serve him as I did my trainer 
Burstow. 

Dul. [Noticing the guests' repulsion, slightly frowns 
at Sir Brice unobserved by the guests, and goes on 
speaking to change the subject .] We shall go to Hom- 
burg again- 

Sir Brice. [Speaks her down. To Charley.] 
Burstow had the gout. I treated- him myself. 
[Coarse little chuckle. ] I gave him a bottle of port, 
champagne at intervals, and brown brandy ad lib. 
A tombstone now marks Burstow’s precise position, 
which is longitudinal. I wrote his epitaph, but the 
vicar wouldn’t pass it. So the vicar and I have 
a law-suit on. [Another coarse little chuckle. An¬ 
other awkward little pause.] 

Dul. [To cover it, continues.] Mr. Fancourt, did 
you make inquiries about the house-boat for us ? 



ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


5 1 


Sir Brice. We shan’t go to Henley. 

Dul. [To Fancourt.] Then of course you 
needn’t make inquiries. 

Fan. But Fve arranged it. My brother will be 
awfully delighted if you’ll accept the loan of his 
for the Henley week. You and Sir Brice will be 
awfully pleased with it. 

Sir Brice. [More decidedly .] We shall not go to 
Henley. 

Dul. [Another covered frown at Sir Brice, again 
controlling herself with immense effort and speaking 
very calmly .] Will you thank your brother and say 
we shall not be going. [A7vk7vardpause. Sir Brice 
puts his hands in his pockets a?id ya7vns. Dulcie 
engages the group in conversation , and they crowd 
round her.] 

Sir Brice. Sharland, come and have a little 
game of poker in the smoking-room. 

Shar. Very sorry, Bricey, haven’t so much as 
a fiver with me. 

Sir Brice. You can borrow. Can’t you borrow, 
eh ? 

Shar. Very sorry, dear old chap ; never borrow 
or lend. [Goes back to Dulcie’s group—they are 
talking in an interested 7vay. Sir Brice stands and 
ya7£>ns, looks sulky and vicious, then calls out.] 

Sir Brice. Fancourt. [Fancourt glances but 
does not come.] Fan—Fan, I say— [At length Fan- 
court comes.] We’re getting up a little hand at 
poker just to wind up this infernally dull evening. 


5 2 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


Fan. [ Shakes his head and laughs .] Not good 
enough, Bricey—not good enough. [ Goes back to 
Dulcie’s group. Dulcie and the rest are grouped 
talking in an animated ivay. Sir Brice stands alone, 
sulky, vicious, biting his ?iails. Remon enters . At 
his entrance, guests show marked interest, and the 
conversation stops. Sir Brice watches with a sulky, 
hang-dog expression. Dulcie shows great pleasure, 
goes to meet Remon.] 

Dul. I’m so glad you’ve come. You have so 
many engagements. 

David. None more pleasing than this. 

Blan. I insist on knowing Mr. Remon—some¬ 
body introduce me—introduce me. 

Dul. Mr. Remon—-Mr. Percy Blanchflower. 

Blan. I’m so delighted to know you. We want 
to look through that large telescope of yours. 

David. It’s in the South of France. 

Blan. I go there every winter. We were talking 
about your wonderful discoveries—hum ? eh ? We 
want to know all about them. 

David. Oh, spare me, or rather, yourselves. [Sir 
Brice laughs. ] 

Fan. You seem to have got something good all 
to yourself, Bricey. 

Sir Brice. Yes, I have. [. Laughs .] 

Blan. [Aside, to Sir Winchmore.] What is 
Remon’s discovery ? eh ? 

Sir Win. Haven’t the least idea—something 
about Saturn I fancy. 


ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


53 


Blan. \Buzzes up to Remon.] Your last discovery 
now—about Saturn, wasn’t it—hum ? eh ? 

Note.—All through David’s conversation 
with the guests , he adopts the same light 
frivolous tone throughout, and speaks 
without the least suggestion of serious¬ 
ness. This gives a contrast to the scenes 
with Dulcie. 

David. [Amused, very light and chaffing tone .] 
About Saturn*? Oh yes. My conjecture is that 
bad folks when they die are sent to Saturn to study 
current theology, and if at the end of five hundred 
years they know anything about it, their probation 
is complete. [General laugh. David turns to 
Dulcie. Sir Brice laughs.\ 

Fan. What is it, Bricey ? 

Sir Brice. Lady Skene is making a howling fuss 
with all of you to-night. She’ll make a howling 
fuss of another kind next week. I can’t stand that 
astronomer fellow. [Goes up to Dulcie and group 
and listens.\ 

Blan. But do tell us, Lady Skene, what is Mr. 
Remon’s great speciality, hum ? eh ? 

Dul. I believe Mr. Remon has devoted a great 
deal of time to the study of sun-spots. 

Blan. Oh, ah, yes—hum—Now [To David.] 
what is the special function of sun-spots—hum? 
eh ? What do they do ? 

David. [Still a?nused, chaffing , mysterious .] I’ve 


54 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


long had a suspicion that there is a very subtle 
connection between sun-spots and politics—in fact, 
I am convinced that the present decadence of 
political manners and morals is entirely caused by 
the persistence of a certain sun-spot. As soon 
as we can remove it, the natural ingrained honesty 
and patriotism of our politicians will re-assert them¬ 
selves. [ General laugh.] 

Sir Brice. [Pushes a little forward with a rather 
insolent 7?ianner to David.] My character is always 
puzzling me. Can you tell me whether its present 
development is due to sun-spots ? 

David. [Is about to reply rather angrily, is checked 
by a look from Dulcie, speaks very politely .] You 
might not think me polite, Sir Brice. 

Sir Brice. [Persisting.] I should like to have a 
scientific examination made of my character. 

David. [Still controlling himself.] I fear I should 
not make a sympathetic operator. 

Sir Brice. [Stillpersisting.] But- 

Dul. [ Who has been watching very apprehensively, 
to Sir Brice.] My dear, Lady Franklin wants to 
ask you something about a horse for Ascot. She 
was here a moment ago. [Looking around, drawing 
Sir Brice away frojti the group who close up round 
Remon. Dulcie is getting Sir Brice away?\ For 
God’s sake keep away from us. [A guest is just 
passing, Dulcie turns to her with a forced society 
smile and manner.] How do you do? What a 



ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


55 


sweet frock ! [Shakes hands with guest, who passes 

on.] 

Sir Brice. [Sulkily.] What’s the matter ? Ap¬ 
proaching her.] 

Dul. Don’t go near anyone. You smell of 
brandy. [All this under breath with great terror 
and apprehension .] 

Sir Brice. \Getting a little nearer her. J I rather 
like the smell of brandy. 

Dul. [ Terrified, under breath.] Keep away— 
keep away—if you come a step nearer to me I shall 
shriek out before everybody. You nearly drove 
me out of my mind this morning. Oh, for heaven’s 
sake—do go—do go ! 

Sir Brice. Well, as it’s infernally slow here I 
will go—but—you may as well know, there will be 
no Ascot, no Henley, no Goodwood, no Homburg, 
no anything. We shall be sold up within a month. 

Dul. [Is staggering for a moment.] 

Sir Brice. Ta ta !—my blessing—I*m going to 
the club. 


[Exit. Dulcie stands overwhebned for a 
moment, tries to pull herself together, 
staggers a little. David, who has been 
watching her and Sir Brice, leaves the 
group and comes to her, speaks with 
great feeling, very softly, his tone and 
?na?iner to her in great contrast to his 
tone and manner with the guests. 


5 6 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


David. Lady Skene, you are in trouble—you are 
ill. 

Dul. [Again with the forced society smile .] No, 
only the fatigue of the season, and the rooms are 
so crowded, aren’t they ? [ A group of guests begin 
little gestures and significant glances and whispers, 
watching David and Dulcie.] 

Eddie re-enters, and unnoticed looks from one group 
to the other. 

David. I’ll tell Sir Winchmore. 

Dul. No, don’t take any notice. If I can only 
get through this evening ! [ With a sudden instinct , 
appealing to him , with great entreaty .] Tell me some¬ 
thing that will carry me through this next hour till 
they have all gone. Give me that sort of medicine ! 

David. [ With the utmost tenderness and feeling, 
in a low voice, bending over her. The glances and 
ivhispers continue .] Your trouble isn’t real. This 
society world of yours isn’t a real world. There’s 
one little star in Andromeda where everything is 
real. You’ve wandered down here amongst these 
shadows when you should have stayed at home. 

Dul. [Pleased, lending herself to his suggestion .] 
Aren’t these real men and women ? 

David. No. They are only masquerading. 
Good God, I think we are all masquerading ! 
Look at them ! If you touch them with reality 
they would vanish. And so with your trouble of 


ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


57 


to-night. Fly back to Andromeda, and you will 
see what a dream all this is. 

Dul. How strange ! I was half dead a moment 
ago, and you’ve made me so well and happy. But 
you—do you belong to Andromeda—or to this 
world ? [Eddie has been watching and comes down 
near to them.\ 

David. To both. But the little star in Andro¬ 
meda is my home. I’m only wandering with you 
amongst these phantoms. [ They have become for 
the moment quite absorbed. Eddie, who has been 
watching the whispers and smiles, comes up to them , 
speaks rather sharply .] 

Eddie. Lady Skene—that lamp-shade—[ Point¬ 
ing off.] Won’t it catch fire? [ Taking David’s 
arm , dragging him away. ] I want to talk to you. 
Davy. [Dulcie turns to manservant, points to the 
lamp-shade , and gives him directions concerning it. ] 

David. [ Turns savagely on Eddie, growls.] 
Why the devil did you come between us ? 

Eddie. Don’t you care for her, Davy ? 

David. Care for her ? [Dulcie having given 
manservant instructions , goes to guests.] 

Eddie. Do you know what these folks are say¬ 
ing? That Sir Brice is ruined, and that you have 
lately come into a fortune. 

David. Well ? 

Eddie. And that she continues her parties, her 

dresses, her house, because you- [Stops, looks at 

David ] 



58 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


David. [Looks round at guests savagely. Stands 
for a mo?nent or two reflecting , his face then assumes 
a look of great resolve .] 

Eddie. [Watching him.] I was right to tell you, 
Davy ? 

David. [Shakes Eddie’s hand in reply. Another 
little pause.\ Go and tell her, Eddie, that I must 
see her for a few minutes by-and-by—to-night— 
when everybody is gone. 

Eddie. What are you going to do, Davy ? 

David. We’ll get away south to-morrow, old 
boy, The observatory’s nearly finished, and— 
there’s no tittle-tattle between the snows and the 
stars. Go and tell her I must see her, and bring 
me back her answer. [Eddie goes to Dulcie, who 
is talking to guests. A general movement of guests 
towards Remon. They group round him again. 
Guests are seen being introduced to him.\ 

Eddie. [ To Dulcie.] You’ve not been down to 
supper, Lady Skene. 

Dulcie. I really don’t want any. 

Eddie. But I’ve a message for you. 

Dulcie. A message ? 

Eddie. From Andromeda. 

[.Exeunt Dulcie and Eddie. 

Re-enter Monty with Lady Clarice, evidently on 
very good terms. 

Lady Clar. You are really too dreadful. [ Leaves 


ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


59 


him , and joins Lady Crandover. Monty goes up 
to group of Remon and guests .] 

Blan. \Buzzing round Remon.] That’s a charm¬ 
ing theory of yours about the effect of sun-spots on 
morality. 

David. Yes. It isn’t true, but it’s very consol¬ 
ing. That’s why I invented it. 

Mon. If it’s charming and consoling, why 
should it be true ? 

David. Why should it ? and put everything else 
out of focus. 

Blan. Out of focus? Ah ! I’m afraid you’re a 
ereadful, dreadful pessimist. 

David. No ; but I’m as willing to play that part 
as any other, since it is only in jest. 

Char. In jest ? What do you mean ? 

David. I have to spend so much time alone 
amongst the stars, that when I come back into the 
world I am quite at a loss. I find myself amongst 
crowds of shadows—very charming shadows they 
are—playing at money-making, playing at religion, 
playing at love, at art, at politics, at all sorts of 
odd games, and so for the time I join in the game, 
and pretend to take an interest in it ; and a very 
pleasant game it is, so long as we don’t mistake it 
for reality. 

Char. But surely we are realities ! 

David. With the profoundest respect in the 
world, Lady Shalford, I cannot bring myself to be- 


6o 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


lieve that you are. Still, I won’t spoil your game 
by staying out. 

Blan. [ With a little affected , mincing ear/iestncss.\ 
Oh, but surely, surely there is Something real Some¬ 
where. Oh, yes—surely, surely—we must believe 
that there is—hum? eh ?—a Kind of—eh ?—a Sort 
of a Something—Somewhere, eh ? 

David. If you like to believe there is a kind of a 
sort of a something—somewhere—and you find it 
consoling, I’m as willing to pretend to believe that 
as anything else. 

Blan. [ Still with the same affected earnestness. ] 
Oh, but surely, when you look into your own heart 
—hum ? eh ?- 

David. I always wear a mask over my heart. I 
never dare look into it. 

Re-enter Eddie. 

Monty. I find this world a remarkably comfort¬ 
able and well-arranged place. I always do exactly 
as 1 like. If I want anything I buy it, whether I 
pay for it or no. If I see a woman I admire I make 
love to her, whether she belongs to another man or 
no. If a lie will answer my purpose, I tell it. I 
can’t remember I ever denied myself one single 
pleasure in life ; nor have I ever put myself out to 
oblige a fellow creature. 1 am consistently selfish, 
and 1 find it pays ; 1 credit everybody else with the 
same consistent selfishness, and I am never deceived 
in my estimate of character. These are my prin- 



ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


61 


ciples, and 1 always act up to them. And I assure 
you I find this world the pleasantest possible place. 

David. A fairy palace ! An enchanted spot! 
Only take care ! While you are dancing, there may 
be a volcano underneath. 

Mon. If there is, surely dancing is the pleasantest 
preparation for the general burst-up. 

Eddie. Davy- 

David. [Goes io him.] Well ? 

Eddie. She ll see you to night. Come back here 
when they’ve all gone. 

Blan. ['Jo Monty.] How charmingly frank you 
are, Monty. 

Mon. Why not ? We have one supreme merit in 
this generation—we have ceased to render to virtue 
the homage of hypocrisy. 

David. And our moral evolution is now com¬ 
plete. Good-night ! [Exeunt David and Eddie. 

Lady Clarice re-enters. Monty joins her. The 
group breaks up. 

Mon. [Coming down with Lady Clarice.] Of 
course I know there is something wretchedly philis¬ 
tine and provincial about marriage, but I will take 
care this aspect of it is never presented to you. 

Lady Clar. I wonder what makes marriage so 
unlovely and so uninteresting ? 

Mon. The exaggerated notion that prevails of its 
duties and responsibilities. Once do away with 
that, and it becomes an ideal state. Lady Clarice, 


62 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


you’d find me the most agrefeable partner in the 
world. 

Lady Clar. You’d be like most other husbands, 
I suppose. 

Mon. No ; I should be unique. Husbands, as a 
rule, are foolish, jealous brutes, who insist that men 
shall have all the rights and women all the duties, 
—men shall have all the sweets and women all the 
sours of the marriage state. We would start on an 
entirely new plan. The sours we would naturally 
equally avoid, and the sweets,—if there are any,— 
we would naturally do our best to secure. 

Lady Clar. Separately, or together ? 

Mon. According to our tastes. If you do me the 
honour to accept me, I pledge you my word I will 
never have the offensively bad taste to speak of a 
husband’s rights. There shall be no “ lord and 
master ” nonsense. 

Lady Clar. It sounds very well in theory. I 
wonder how it would work. 

Mon. Let us try. If we succeed we shall solve 
the vexed question of the age, and make ourselves 
happy in showing mankind the road to happiness. 

Lady Clar. But if we fail ? 

Mon. We shall have sacrificed ourselves for the 
benefit of our species. But we can’t fail, the plan 
is perfect. 

Lady Clar. If I spoke of rights and duties—if I 
were jealous- 

Mon. Ah ! then you would be departing from the 



ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


6 3 


plan. Its charm is that it is a patent, self-adjust¬ 
ing, self-repairing, safety-valve plan, with double 
escapement action suited to all climates and dis¬ 
positions. No rights, no duties, no self-assertion, 
no quarrels, no jealousy. 

Lady Clar. And no love? 

Mon. Love is a perverted animal instinct, which 
is really a great bar to solid happiness in marriage. 
Believe me, you will like me and respect me in the 
end for not pretending to any such outworn im¬ 
pulses. You see I am frank. 

Lady Clar. You are indeed. [ Looking at him 
very closely , watching him .] You know— \^Pause ]— 
my father cannot make any great settlements, and 
—[ Watching him closely ] I have no expectations. 

Mon. [Stands it without flinching .] So I am 
aware. I’m frightfully in debt, and I have no ex¬ 
pectations. But there is a house in Grosvenor 
Place—it would suit us exactly. 

Lady Clar. [ Watching him.] But—without 
money ? 

Mon. I cannot afford to be economical. I have 
acted on that principle throughout life, and I have 
always had the very best of everything. I do not 
see we need change it. 

Lady Clar. You are perfectly atrocious—I don’t 
care for you in the least. 

Mon. [ With great politeness.] My plan is pre¬ 
cisely adapted to such cases. [Lady Crandover 
appears at back.] 


64 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


Lady Gran. Come, Clarice—everybody is going. 

[Exit. 

Mon. I shall call on Lord Crandover to-morrow. 
You don’t speak. Does silence give consent ? 

Lady Clar. I can’t help your calling. 

[ Exit. Monty stands in slight deliberation. 
Charley comes out frotn the conservatory 
behind him. She has been watching the 
last part of the scene from the conserva¬ 
tory. 

Char. Well? 

Mon. Landed, I think. You’re sure about Sir 
Joseph and the estate ? 

Char. Quite. But it’s not to be known yet. I’m 
a pet, ain’t I ? 

Mon. You are. [Kisses her hand.] 

Char. I must be going. That creature at home 
will be raising furies. 

Mon. When do you pack him to Aix ? 

Char. Thursday, praise the Lord ! 

Mon. When shall I call ? 

Char. Friday? 

Mon. What time ? 

Char. Come to lunch ? 

Mon. Yes. 

Char. Friday at two. [Exchange looks full of 
meaning .] Bye-bye. 

Mon. Bye-bye. [During the last scene Dulcie has 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


6 5 


come on and has been seen saying good-night to the last 
guests in the other room A 

Char. Oh dear, am I the last? Good-bye, dear. 
[Kisses Dulcif..] Monty, come and see me to my 
carriage. 

Mon. Good-bye, Lady Skene. 

Dul. Good-bye. 

[Exit Monty with Charley. Manser¬ 
vant appears at back seeing to lamps. 

Dul. [ To Servant.] Thomson, I expect Mr. 
Remon. Show him in here. 

Serv. Yes, my lady. 

[ Exit. Helen appears at outer door still in 
nurse's costume. 

Helen. [Peeps />/.] They have all gone, dear. 

Dul. [Staggers up to Helen, throws her arms 
round her.] I’ve got such a fever, Nell. Put your 
nice cold hand on my forehead. That’s right. 
Hold it tight—tight. Why didn’t you dress and 
come in to my party ? 

Helen. I was so tired and bored at the last, and 
I wanted to be with Rosy. . 

Dul. She’s all right. 

Helen. Yes. She was awake a moment ago. 

Dul. [Suddenly.] Fetch her ! I must see her ! 
Oh, you’re right, Nell ; it’s been a hateful evening, 
with only one bright spot in it—when he came and 
whispered something so sweet. 


66 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


Helen. [Suddenly.] Dulcie, you’re sure of your¬ 
self ? 

Dul. I’m sure of him. 

Helen. He has never spoken—of—of- 

Dul. Of love ? Never. What does that matter? 
I know he loves me. 

Helen. Dulcie, you shouldn’t say that—even to 
yourself. 

Dul. Oh, that’s all nonsense, Nell ; as if there 
was ever a woman in this world that didn’t know 
when she was loved ! 

Helen. Dulcie ! 

Dul. [Provo kingly.] He loves me! He loves 
me ! He loves me, and I’m not ashamed of it, and 
I don’t care who knows it. [ Throwing her arms 
round Helen’s neck.] Nell, I’m so happy. 

Helen. Why ? 

Dul. Brice says we are utterly ruined ; it’s no 
more than I’ve guessed for months. We’re ruined, 
but I won’t feel it to-night. I’ll feel it to-morrow. 
I’ll be happy for one minute to-night. He is com¬ 
ing. 

Helen. Mr. Remon ? 

Dul. Yes. Don’t looked shocked, Nell. Listen ; 
this is true. Mr. Remon and I have never said one 
word to each other that all the world might not 
have heard. [Pause.] I’m glad all the world hasn’t 
heard it though. [Servant comes in, antiounces Mr. 
Remon.] 



act ii THE MASQUERADERS 67 

Dul. [ To Helen.] Go and fetch Rosy. Yes I 
Yes ! 


\Exit Helen. David has entered; Ser¬ 
vant has gone off '. 

[ To David.] I'm so glad you've come. I want you 
to see Rosy. She’s awake. You’ve never seen her. 
[All this very excited .] 

David. I shall be very pleased. [. Looking at her.\ 

Dul. You’re thinking about me. 

David. I was thinking that a mother is the most 
beautiful thing on earth. 

Dul. Oh, you don’t know ! You can’t imagine ! 
She’s over two years old, and I haven’t got over re¬ 
membering that she’s mine. Every time I think of 
her I feel a little catch here in the very middle of 
my heart, a delicious little stab, as if some angel 
came behind me and whispered to me, “ God has 
made you a present of ten hundred thousand million 
pounds all your own.” Oh, she makes up to me for 
everything. [David is approaching her with great 
tenderness when Helen enters with Rosy, the two 
years' old baby, in her arms in nightclothes .] 

Dul. [Rushes to Helen.] There ! There ! You 
may look at her ! 

Helen. Hush ! She’s asleep ! 

Dul. I must kiss her if it kills her ! [Hugging the 
baby, kisses her, lifts the nightgown, kisses the baby's 
feet, croons over it—points he)- finger mockingly at 
Remon in childlike mockery and laughtcr.\ There l 


68 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


There! There, Mr. Philosopher from Andromeda ! 
You can’t say a mother’s love isn’t real ! 

David. I never did. It’s the one thing that 
shows what a sham the rest of the world is. That 
little star in Andromeda is crowded with mothers. 
They’ve all been there once in their lives. [Bends 
over the baby for a moment."] 

Dul. [ Excited, feverish.] Nell, Mr. Remon has 
an odd notion that this world isn’t real. 

Helen. The cure for that is to earn half-a-crown 
a day and live on it. 

David. Oh yes, I know. Work is real. [ Bends 
over the baby.] 

Dul. [To David.] What are you looking at ? 

[,Scrutinizes him carefully ; then suddenly, with savage 
earnestness, half despair, half entreaty.] She’s like 
me? She like me ! ! \Crescendo, tigerish, frenzied.] 
Say she’s like me!! ! 

David. [ Very quietly.] She is like you. [Kisses 
the child reverently .] She is wholly like you ! 

Dul. [ Stands absorbed, very quietly .] Take her 
back again to the nursery, Nell. [Stands troubled, 
absorbed. ] 

Helen. Good-night, Mr. Remon. 

David. Good-night. [Goes toiuards the door with 
her.] 

Helen. [To David, smiling.] I’ve just remem¬ 
bered something else that is real. 

David. What’s that ? 


ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


69 


Helen. Duty. 

[ Exit with baby. A summer sunrise shines 
pink through the conservatory , and lights 
up the room with summer morning light. 
David returns to Dulcie, who stands 
absorbed. 

David. Lady Skene, I asked to see you because 
—it is necessary for me to leave England very soon. 

Dul. No—no ! 

David. Yes—yes. I never use the word “ hon¬ 
our ” about my conduct, because every scamp has 
used it until it’s the most counterfeit word in the 
language. But I’ve just learned that if I stay in 
England I shall injure very deeply a friend of mine, 
so naturally I’m going away. 

Dul. But—tell me—[ Pause ]—what- 

David. If I stay I cannot continue an honest 
man. Will you let it rest there ? 

Dul. If ybu wish- 

David. [After a little pause , with some embarrass- 
ment .] I have just heard—I scarcely know how to 
mention it—that you may be placed in a position of 
some difficulty. 

Dul. You mean that Sir Brice is ruined. In one 
way it’s a relief, because at any rate it will break up 
this life, and I’m so tired of it. 

David. Yet you thought you would like it on 
that night of the Hunt Ball. 




70 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


Dul. Yes. I longed for it. Is life like that all 
through ? 

David. Like what ? 

Dul. To long for a thing very much and to find 
it worthless, and then to long for something else 
much more—to be sure that this is worth having— 
to get it, and then to find that that is worthless too. 
And so on, and so on, and so on ? 

David. I’m afraid life is very much like that on 
this particular planet. 

Dul. Oh, but that would be awful if I found out 
that- [ Stops.] 

David. What ? 

Dul. Nothing. You remember that night of the 
Hunt Ball ? 

David. [AWj.] It was the last time I saw my 
friend George Copeland. He died in Alaska six 
months after. 

Dul. And you went away for over a year. 

David. No —only for a few weeks. After Cope¬ 
land’s funeral I went to the Mediterranean to choose 
a site for my observatory, and I was back in England 
within less than three months. 

Dul. But we never saw you till last season. 
Where were you ? 

David. When you were in the country I was 
there ; when you were in town I was in town too. 
I have never been far away from you. I have kept 
an account of every time I have seen you for the 
last three years. 



ACT II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


7i 


Dul. [Looks at him as if suddenly struck with a 
thought .] Tell me—where were you two years ago 
last March ? 

David. At Gerard’s Heath—near you. 

Dul. [Suddenly.^ Did you—the night Rusy was 
—I mean the night of the second—it was a dread¬ 
ful snowstorm- 

David. I remember. 

Dul. One of my nurses said she saw someone in 
the garden. [Looks at him .] 

David. It was I. Your life was in danger. I 
passed those two nights outside your window. 
[Dulcie, with great affection , involuntarily puts her 
hand on his arml\ 

Helen re-enters. 

Helen. Sir Brice has just come back and is in 
the smoking-room downstairs. 

Dul. [Turning.] Look ! It’s morning. 

David. Good-bye. 

Dul. [Suddenly.] No—I must have another 
word with you. Wait here a moment. [Goes to 
archway and looks off; comes back .] Here is Sir 
Brice. Nell, take Mr. Remon on to the balcony 
for a minute or two and wait there with him till 
Sir Brice has gone upstairs. 

[Exeunt David and Helen through con¬ 
servatory and on to balcony. 

Sir Brice enters , looking a little flushed and 
dissipated. 



72 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


Sir Brice. [Storing at Dulcie ; after a pause.'] 
Well ? 

Dul. Well? 

Sir Brice. [Drops into a chair; whistles .] Got 
rid of your friends ? 

Dul. All except Mr. Remon. He’s on the bal¬ 
cony with Nell 

Sir Brice. Oh ! [Pause. Whistles; takes some 
change out of his pocket—three shillings and three¬ 
pence; places the coins very caref ully and elaborately 
in a longitudinal position on the palm of his left hand, 
arranging the three shillings and the three pennies in 
a line, whistling carelessly.] That’s our net fortune, 
my girl. [Holding them up under her face.] That 
is our precise capital—three shillings and three¬ 
pence. [ Whistles.] Not another farthing. And 
some thousand pounds’ worth of debts. 

Dul. [Unconcerned.] Indeed. 

Sir Brice. [ With a sudden little burst of brutal¬ 
ity—not too marked.] Look here ! can’t you get 
some money ? 

Dul. What do you mean ? 

Sir Brice. Get some money! That’s plain Eng¬ 
lish, isn’t it ? 

Dul. 1 don’t understand you. 

- Sir Brice. This fellow Remon is devilish fond 
of you. Can’t you get some money from him ? 

Dul. Hush ! Borrow money from him ! 

Sir Brice. [Suggestively.] You needn’t borrow. 
[Dulcie looks at him inquiringly .] Now can’t you 


AC I II 


THE MASQUERADERS 


7.? 


get some ? [Dulcie looks at him for a moment; 
she raises her fan to strike him; sees David, who 
has entered from conservatory. Helen stands at 
conservatory door.] 

David. Lady Skene, I have been obliged to 
overhear what has just been said. To-morrow 
morning I leave for the South of France, and l 
shall be quite inaccessible for some years. My 
bankers will have orders to send you a cheque 
book and to honour your signature to any extent 
that you are likely to require. [Dulcie makes a 
protest.] If you please—if you please. As I shall 
be away from England there cannot be the least 
slur upon you in accepting it. Miss Larondie, you 
will be with your sister, always. She will be in 
your care—always. [Shakes hands with Helen.] 
Be very kind to her. Never leave her. Good-bye. 

Dul. But I —cannot—take- 

David. [ Silencing her.] If you please—it is my 
last request. Good-bye. 

[Sir Brice, who has been sitting all the 
while , listening, rises. 

David. [Looks at him for just half a moment; 
looks at Dulcie.] Good-bye. [Exit. 


Nifie months pass between Acts II. and III. 



74 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


ACT III. 

Scene. Private sitting-roo?n at the Hotel Pri?ice 
de Galles, Nice. A rather handso?ne modern room 
furnished in French hotel fashion. Two long 
windows, right, curtained. Door at back. Door 
left. Small card table down stage, left, with 
several packs of cards loosely on it. The whole 
floor round the table strewn with cards. A cloak of 
Dulcie’s on chair at back. Discover Sir Brice 
in evening dress seated left of table, aimlessly and 
mechanically playing with the cards. After a 

few seconds Dulcie, in dinner dress, enters from 
door at back, crosses to the window and stands 
looking out, having taken no notice of Sir Brice. 
As she enters he leaves off playing with the cards 
for a moment, looks at her. 

Sir Brice. \In rather a co?nmanding tone , a little 
brutal .] Come here. [Dulcie takes no notice. A 
little pause.\ 

Sir Brice. \Louder.\ D’ye hear ? Come here. 
[Dulcie comes down to him, does not speak. He 
looks up at her. Her face is quite blank, looking 
indifferently in front of her.] 

Sir Brice. [Begins playing with cards again.] 


act in THE MASQUERADERS 75 

I’ve lost over six hundred pounds. [Dulcie takes 
no notice .] 

Sir Brice. [Dashes the pack of cards under his 
feet , sta?nps on them.\ Damn and damn the cards ! 
[Dulcie takes no notice. Slight pause.\ 

Sir Brice. [Roars out.] The hotel people have 
sent up their bill again with a request for payment. 
[ Slight pause. Dulcie goes back to the window , 
stands there looking out. Pause.] 

Sir Brice. [Roars out furiously.] Why the devil 
don’t you get something for that deafness of yours ! 
[Suddenly jumps up, goes up to her , seizes her hands , 
turns her round.] Now look here- 

Hotel Servant enters , left , with letter on tray. Sir 
Brice desists. The Hotel Servant brings the 
letter to Dulcie, who crosses and takes it. Exit 
Servant. Dulcie opens letter , reads it. 

Sir Brice. Well ? [Dulcie rings bell.] 

Sir Brice. Well ? 

Servant enters. 

Dul. [In cold equable tone , to Sir Brice.] Mr. 
Edward Remon wishes to see me. He asks me to 
excuse his being in fancy dress. He’s going to the 
Opera Ball. Shall I see him here or in the hall ? 

Sir Brice. Here. 

Dul. [To Servant.] Show Mr. Remon here. 

[Exit Servant. 



76 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


Sir Brice. [To Dulcie.] Where’s his brother, 
the astronomer ? 

Dul. At his observatory, I suppose. I’ve not 
seen him since the night we began to live upon 
him. 

Hotel Servant enters , announces Mr. Edward 
Remon. Eddie enters , dressed as Pierrot for 
the fancy dress ball. Exit Servant. 

Eddie. [All through the act very excited .] How 
d’ye do? [To Dulcie; shakes hands with her. 
To Sir Brice.] How d’ye do ? 

Sir Brice. How d’ye do? [Looks meaningly at 
Dulcie and exit left.\ 

Eddie. So good of you to excuse this dress. 

Dul. Your brother ? 

Eddie. He’s down in the town with me to-night. 
We’ve been dining at the Cafe de Paris. I’ve taken 
three glasses of champagne—anything more than 
a spoonful makes me tipsy, and so, with that and 
this dress, and our journey to Africa, I’m quite mad 
to-night. 

Dul. Africa ! 

Eddie. We start early to-morrow morning to the 
deadliest place on the West Coast. 

Dul. Not your brother ? 

Eddie. Yes. We're going to watch the transit 
of Venus, and as there was a jolly lot of fever there 
all the other astronomers rather funked it. So 
Davy has fitted out an expedition himself. [Dul- 



ACT HI 


THE MASQUERADERS 


77 


CIE shines great concern. Eddie rattles on.'] I’m 
going to have a spree to-night. I’ve never been 
drunk in my life, and I thought I should like to 
try what it’s like—because— [tossing up a coin ] it’s 
heads we come back alive and prove Davy’s theory 
about sun-spots — and it’s tails we leave our bones 
and all our apparatus out there. It’s tails—we’re 
as dead as door nails. [6W\y Dulcie’s pained face.] 
Lady Skene—I’m so sorry— 

I)ul. We’ve been three weeks in Nice. Why 
hasn't your brother come to see me? 

Eddie. A mistaken sense of duty. Davy has the 
oddest notions about duty. He thinks one ought 
to do it when it’s unpleasant. So do I when I’m 
in my right clothes, and my right senses, but now 
I’m half tipsy, and have got a fool’s cap on, I can 
see quite plainly that duty’s all moonshine. Duty 
is doing exactly what one likes, and it’s Davy’s 
duty to come to you. And the fool is just break¬ 
ing his heart for a sight of you. Shall I find him 
and bring him ? 

Due. Where is he? 

Eddie. He’s in the town getting everything 
ready for to-morrow. Shall I find him ? 

Due. [Looking at her watch.] Quarter to eleven. 
I may be alone in half-an-hour. Yes, bring him ta 
me here. 

Eddie. Hurrah !— An revoir. • 


[Exit left. Short pause. Sir Brice ap- 


78 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


pears at the same door , looks after Eddie, 
shuts door , enters. 

Sir Brice. [ To Dulcie.] Well ? [Dulcie does 
not reply , goes to her room at back , Sir Brice follows 
her , the door is closed in his face and a lock is heard to 
turn. Sir Brice shakes the door handle , kicks the 
door , looks vicious and spiteful , comes down a step or 
two , kicks a hassock.\ 

Servant enters announcing Mr. Lushington. Enter 
Monty. Sir Brice nods. 

Mon. Well, dear chum ! [ Looking round at the 

cards on the floor .] Did you give Fancourt his 
revenge ? 

Sir Brice. [Kicking cards on the floor .] Damn 
the cards. 

Mon. By all means. How’s Lady Skene? 

Sir Brice. [ Kicking cards , mutters. ] —mn Lady 
Skene. 

Mon. By all means. 

Sir Brice. You’re married, Lushington- 

Mon. I am three months a bridegroom. 

Sir Brice. Why the devil did you get married ? 

Mon. Because I ascertained that my wife would 
have seven thousand a year. Why did you ? 

Sir Brice. Because I was a silly fool. 

Mon. Well, there couldn’t be two better reasons 
for getting nr>arried. 

Sir Brice. [Furious with his cards.'] —mn every¬ 
thing and everybody. 



ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


79 


Mon. By all means. And now we’ve reached 
finality and are utterly the sport of destiny, will 
you do me a good turn ? 

Sir Brice. What ? 

Mon. I’m going to take a lady to the Opera Ball, 
and I fear Lady Clarice will be dull, or I should 
say restless, in my absence. I know you will be 
going to the Cercle d’Amerique to wreck your 
farthing chance of eternity at poker. 

Sir Brice. Well ? 

Mon. It would momentarily reinstate your celes¬ 
tial hopes if you would tell Lady Skene that I’m 
going to the club with you, and persuade her to 
spend the lonely hours of her widowhood with 
Lady Clarice in number one-four-three. They will 
doubtless tear our characters to rags, but that will 
keep them from the worse mischief of interfering 
with us. 

Sir Brice. Will you do me a good turn? 

Mon. Anything in my power. 

Sir Brice. Lend me a couple of hundred pounds. 

Mon. My dear Bricey ! If my I.O.U., or my 
name, or my presence, is good for anything at the 
Cercle d’Amerique, you’re welcome to it. 

Sir Brice. Will you come with me and set me 
afloat for a quarter of an hour ? 

Mon. Certainly. 

Sir Brice. I’ll ask Lady Skene. [Goes up to the 
door at back, rapsl] Are you there ? [A little louder .] 
Are you there ? 


8o 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


Mon. Throw in a “ my dear,” Bricey, or some 
such trifle. Its effect will be in proportion to its 
scarcity. 

Sir Brice. My dear, {Rapping still.'] Mr. Lush- 
ington has called. [Rapping.] Do you hear, my 
love ? [ With a grim sneer on the last word. The 
door is a little opened. Sir Brice forces his way in.] 
Lady Clarice wants to know if you will go and sit 

with her while- [ l he remainder of sentence is 

lost by the closing of door after him.] 

Lady Clarice enters door , left, with opera cloak . 

Mon. [ Showing surprise, which he instantly checks.] 
Where so gay and free, my love ? 

Clar. {Looking him straight in the face very de¬ 
terminedly.] To the Opera Ball. 

Mon. Oh. 

Clar. You’re going to take that woman. 

Mon. I know many ladies , but no women. 

Door , left , opens. Servant etiters. 

Char. [Her voice heard outside.] Yes. See if 
Mr. Lushington is there, and say a lady is waiting 
for him in the hall. 

Serv. A lady is waiting for you, sir. [Monty is 
going. Lady Clarice makes a little movement to 
intercept him.] 

Mon. {In a loiv voice.] Don’t be foolish. 

Exit Servant. 



ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


81 


Char. [Her voice at door , outside.\ Aren't you 
nearly ready, Monty ? \Appears at door , sees Lady 
Clarice, takes in the situation at a glance, has a 
slight shock , but instantly recovers herself. Runs to 
Lady Clarice brimming with affection .] Darling , 
are you going too ? So pleased ! So charmed ! 
How sweet of you ! [ Offers to kiss Lady Clarice.] 

Clar. [Indignantly] How dare you ! 

Mon. [ Stepping between them] Hush! [ To 
Clarice.] What’s the use of having a row here, 
or anywhere? For Heaven’s sake, do be a good 
sensible girl, and don’t shatter the happiness of our 
married life before—before we know where we are. 
Charley and I are going to the Opera Ball, will 
you come with us ? 

Clar. [Indignant] What ! 

Mon. Or go by yourself. Or go with anyone 
you please. Or go anywhere or do anything in the 
world you like. Only don’t make a scene here. 

Clar. My father shall know. 

Mon. Very well. Very well. We’ll discuss that 
by-and-by. But do recognize once and for all the 
futility of rows. You’d better come with us. 

Clar. Come with you ? 

Char. [Begins] My dear Clarice, I assure 
you- 

Mon. [Stops Charley with a warning look] For 
Heaven’s sake, Clarice, whatever we do, do not let 
us make ourselves ridiculous. [Re-enter Sir Brice. 
Monty snatches up Lady Clarice’s arm. She re- 



82 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT II 


luctantly allows him to do so.] All right, Bricey. 
Sorry I can’t come with you to the club—but I’ve 
persuaded Lady Clarice and Lady Shalford to 
come to the Opera Ball with me. Bye, bye, dear 
crony, our love to Lady Skene. Hope you will 
have as pleasant an evening as we shall—Ta ! Ta ! 

[Exit with great animation, Lady Cla¬ 
rice holding reluctantly and aloof on one 
arm, Charley more affectionate on the 
other. As soon as he has gone Sir Brice 
goes to Dulcie’s door, throws it wide open, 
stands back, calls. 

Sir Brice. Now, will you let us understand each 
other once for all ? 

Dulcie enters, looks at him without speaking. 

Sir Brice. I want some money. This fellow 
Remon has offered you his purse to any extent. 
Get a few hundreds for me to go on with. 

Dul. No. 

Sir Brice. You won’t ? Then why did you begin 
to take his money ? 

Dul. Because I was weak, because you bullied 
me, and because I knew I was welcome. 

Sir Brice. Very good. The same reasons con¬ 
tinue. You’re weak, I’m a bully, and you’re wel¬ 
come. [Coming to her.] Aren’t you welcome, eh ? 
Aren’t you welcome ? 


ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


Dul. I believe I am welcome to every penny he 
has in the world. 

Sir Brice. He loves you ? 

Dul. Yes. 

Sir Brice. And you love him? 

Dul. [ Looking straight at Sir Brice very fear¬ 
lessly and calmly .] With all my heart. 

Sir Brice. And you aren’t ashamed to tell me ? 

Dul. Is there anything in your past life that you 
have taken the trouble to hide from me ? Have 
you ever openly or secretly had an attachment to 
any living creature that does you as much credit 
and so little shame as my love for David Remon 
does to me ? 

Sir Brice. All right. [ IVhistles.] Go on loving 
him. You needn’t hesitate. He expects a fair 
exchange—if he hasn’t already got it. 

Dul. [Very calmly.\ That’s a lie, and you know 
it is. 

Sir Brice. Very well. It’s a lie. 1 don’t care 
one way or the other. Get me some money. 

Dul. You have had the last farthing that you 
will ever touch of David Remon’s money. 

Sir Brice. All right. [Whistles, jumps up very 
determinedly .] Then you’ve seen the last you will 
see of your child for some years to come. 

Dul. [Aroused.] What? You will hit me through 
my child ! 

Sir Brice. I think my child’s health requires a 
change for a few years—a different climate from 


*4 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


you and myself. We will go upon a little tour by 
ourselves, shall we ? to—where the devil shall we 
go ? I don’t care. I shall send Rosy away to¬ 
morrow morning. D’ye hear ? 

Dul. I hear. 

Sir Brice. If I don’t see you again to-night, get 
her ready by to-morrow morning. [Exit. 

Dul. \^Stami s for a moment or tivo quiet, then 
hursts into a fit of ironic la ugh ter.] Nell ! [Goes 
to the door at hack,'calls out.'] Nell ! Nell ! Come 
here ! 


Helen enters . 

Helen. What’s the matter ? 

Dul. Nell, old girl, have you got such a thing as 
a Church Service about you ? 

Helen. Church Service ? 

Dul. I want you to tell me the end and meaning 
of marriage. There’s something about it in the 
Church Service, isn’t there ? I did go through it 
once I know, but. I’ve forgotten what it’s all about. 
What does it mean ? 

Helen. Marriage ? 

Dul. Yes. Oh, I know ! [Clapping her hands 
childishly .] It’s one of Mr. Remon’s games. 

Helen. Games ? 

Dul. Yes. He says men and women are playing 
a lot of queer games on earth that they call religion, 
love, politics, and this and that and the other— 
marriage must be one, and it’s the funniest of them 


ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


all ! It's a two-handed game like—like cribbage, 
or tossing up. You choose your partner—head’s 
he’s a good 'un, then you’re in clover ; tails he’s a 
bad ’un, then it’s purgatory and inferno for you for 
the rest of your life, unless you’re a man. It’s all 
right if you’re a man. The same game as before, 
choose your partner—heads she’s a good ’un, then 
you’re in clover ; tails she’s a bad ’un, then you cut 
her, and toss up again and again, until you do get a 
good ’un. That’s the game—that’s the game—and 
it’s a splendid game for a man. [ Throwing herself 
in low arm-chair.\ 

Servant enters , announces Mr. Blanchflower. 

Blanchflower, in evening dress, pops in. 

Blan. How d’ye do, Lady Skene ? Am I in the 
way, eh ? 

Exit Servant. 

Dul. \Is leaning back , her head on the back of the 
arm-chair , looking up to the ceiling , her hands on its 

arms.\ Enter! Enter! Enter! You’re just in 
time. Help us solve this mighty question. 

Blan. Something important, eh ? 

Dul. No, only marriage. 

Blan. What about it ? 

Dul. Well—what about it ? Give us your 
opinion. There’s something mystical about it, isn’t 
there? Nell, where’s that Church Service? Some¬ 
thing mystical ? 


86 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


Blan. Well, yes ; and—hum ? eh ? [happy thought] 
—something ideal- 

Dul. Mystical and ideal. Go on, Nell. 

Helen. I’d rather not. I don’t like to hear you 
mocking at marriage. 

Dul. [ Laughing .] Mocking at marriage ! Oh, 
my God ! is it women w r ho have married bad men 
that mock at marriage ! Make haste, make haste ! 
[Dashing her hands on the chair.] Marriage is a 
mystical, ideal state—isn’t there something in the 
service about physical ? Go on, Nell, go on—help 
us out. Go on ! What have we left out ? 

Helen. The wife’s duty. 

Dul. Yah. Yah. Yah. [This is very quiet and 
calm , with a pause between each Yah , very different 
from the excited Yah! Yah! Yah ! of the second act.] 

Helen. To her husband to keep her vows. To 
herself to keep herself pure and stainless, because 
it is her glory, as it is a man’s glory to be brave and 
honest. 

Dul. [ Same position , same tone. J Yah. Yah. 
Yah. 

Helen. And to society, to her nation, because 
no nation has ever survived whose women have 
been immoral. 

Dul. Yah. Yah. Yah. [Suddenly springing up, 
sitting up upright in the chair.] And the men ? 

Helen. I don’t know whether it’s a man’s duty 
to be moral. I’m sure it’s a woman’s. 

Dul. Yah. Yah. Yah. Oh, then marriage is a 


ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


87 


moral state, eh—at least for women, eh, Mr. Blanch- 
flower ? 

Blan. [ Who has shown symptoms of great discom¬ 
fort through the interview .] Ye—es—decidedly 
marriage is—or—a—should be a moral state. 

Dul. [Jumping up vigorously.] Ah, now we’ve 
got it ! Now we can go ahead ! Marriage is a 
physical, mystical, ideal, moral game. Oh, I hate 
these words, moral, ideal. How if it isn’t ideal ? 
Suppose it’s horribly, horribly real ? How if it isn’t 
moral ? Suppose it’s horribly, horribly immoral ! 
Moral ! ! Moral! ! ! Moral ! ! ! ! Is there anything 
under God’s sun so immoral, ah—guess it—guess it 
—to be married to a man one hates ! And you go 
on plastering it and poulticing it and sugaring it over 
with “ moral ” and “ ideal ” and “ respectable,” and 
all those words that men use to cheat themselves 
with. It isn’t moral to be married to a man one 
hates ! It isn’t ideal ! It isn’t mystical ! It’s 
hateful ! It’s martyrdom ! [A long pause. ] 

Blan. [Calm, with a real touch of feeling .] My 
dear Lady Skene, I won’t pretend to offer you ad¬ 
vice— 

Dul. [Has recoveredfrom her outburst , now speaks 
in a very calm , indifferent , matter-of-fact tone.] It 
doesn’t matter. You’re going to the ball ? 

Blan. I was going—but if I can help you in any 
way— [Struck with the idea.] My uncle, Canon 
Butterfield, is here for the winter. He suffers from 
liver, and has written a book on Socinianism. If 



88 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


you want any spiritual advice, I’m sure you couldn’t 
do better. 

Dul. What is Socinianism ? Is it anything to do 
with marriage ? 

Blan. Well—ah—no. Shall I send him ? 

Dul. No, I won’t trouble you. I’ll think this 
out for myself. 

Blan. Well, if you ever do need a clergyman, 
don’t forget my uncle. You can’t do better. Or if 
at any time I can be of any use- 

Dul. Thank you. Good-night. 

Blan. [Shaking hands very sympathetically .J 
Good bye. [Exit. 

Dul. [Suddenly.] Nell ! [Helen comes to her.\ 
Take Rosy up at once, dress her, get out of the 
hotel by the servants’ way so that you don’t meet 
Sir Brice—take her over to Beaulieu to the Hotel 
des Anglais, and wait there till to-morrow morning. 
I’ll send you a message what to do. 

Servant enters , announces Mr. Remon—Mr. Ed¬ 
ward Remon. Enter David and Eddie, still 
in Pier rod s dress. Helen shows some surprise. 

Dul. Quick, Nell, do as I tell you. 

Helen. [Looking at David and Eddie.] Promise 
me- 

Dul. What? 

Helen. You’ll take no step till you’ve seen me. 

Dul. I promise. Make haste. Come here and 
tell me when Rosy’s ready. 




act ill THE MASQUERADERS 89 

H elen. [ Comes to David, shakes hands with him,\ 
You heard her promise. 

David. She shall keep it. [ Exit Helen at back. 

Eddie. I’ve brought him, Lady Skene. I’m off 
to the ball. I’m not so tipsy now as I was, but I’m 
going to have my fling. It’s my only chance of 
going to the devil. Davy, where shall I meet you ? 

David. I’ll come to the Opera House for you. 
Wait for me there. 

Eddie. Come as soon as you can, won’t you ? 
You come too, Lady Skene. You can’t think how 
jolly it is to have no duty and no conscience and 
no faith and no future, no anything but pleasure 
and life ! Do come ! Let’s all be fools for once 
in our lives ! Let’s be monkeys again ! Come on \ 
Come on ! 

[Exit. As soon as he has gone, David and 
Dulcie, who have been standing on oppo¬ 
site sides of the room, go to each other very 
calmly . They meet in the middle of the 
room , take each other's hands. He raises 
hers to his lips. David’s appearance has 
changed since the last act; he is more worn 
and spiritual, a little greyer, very calm at 
first, an line art lily look in his face. They 
stand looking at each other for some 
moments. 

Dul. You’re changed ! You’re not well ! 


9 ° 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


David. Quite well. So well, I feel no ill can ever 
happen to me. 

Dul. Why did you not come to me before ? 

David. I’d been able to do you a service. I 
didn’t wish you to think that I had any claim on 
you. 

Dul. Ah, you shouldn’t misunderstand me. I 
could never misunderstand you like that. I’ve 
taken your money. I knew I was welcome, because 
—if I were rich and you were poor, I would give 
you all I had. 

David. Ah ! Take all I have ! 

Dul. Not another farthing. 

David. Why not ? 

Dul. I would be proud to owe all my happiness, 
all my comfort to you. I have been proud these 
last six months to think that my child’s very bread 
came from you. 

David. Ah ! [Coming nearer to her.\ 

Dul. I would only have taken just sufficient for 
necessaries—buthe forced me. I was weak. Now 
the end has come. I won’t waste any more of 
your money in this [pointing to the cards\ and racing, 
and—I don’t know what. 

David. Tell me all. 

Dul. Things can’t go on as they are. [Smiling.] 
Do you remember the Scotchman who lost his 
mother-in-law and his aunt and three cousins, all 
in one epidemic? He said it was “just reedeec- 
lous.” Things are “just reedeeclous ” with me. 


ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


9 1 


[Laughing.] Sir Brice has threatened to take Rosy 
away from me. 

David. No ! 

Dul. Yes ! I’m sending Nell to Beaulieu with 
her to-night. I don’t know what will happen. I 
don’t think I care much. It doesn’t matter. Noth¬ 
ing matters. [ Smiling. Then with sudden alarm.] 
Yes—this journey of yours to Africa. Must you 
go? 

David. I must. I’ve been waiting for years for 
this chance. If I succeed, it will crown all my 
life’s work. 

Dul. But it’s dangerous. 

David. I take a doctor and drugs. Besides, I 
bear a charmed life. 

Dul. But this fever,—Eddie says it is deadly. 

David. [ With great calmness , looking away.] It 
will pass me. But if it kills me I must go. 

Dul. No, no, no. 

David. Yes, yes, yes. I’m pledged. All my 
world, the little world that takes an interest in me, 
is watching me. There’s the hope of a great prize. 
It’s my one chance of snatching the poor little 
laurel-wreath that we mortals call immortality. 

Dul. But can’t you go some other time ? 

David. I must be at my post, especially as it 
is a little dangerous,—that makes it the post of 
honour. I’ve delayed everything till the last mo¬ 
ment that I might be near you till the very end. 


9 2 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


Dul. The end ! Then this is the end ? I shall 
never see you again. 

David. Yes. When I return. 

Dul. [Shaking her head. .] You will not return. 
[Looking at him very keenly and closely.] Tell me in 
your heart of hearts, do you not know that you will 
never come back ? 

David. [Is about to speak.] 

Dul. Ah no—tell me the truth ! 

David. [Slowly and fatefully .] I wonder how it 
is that when one has carefully weeded out all the 
old superstitions from one’s mind, a crop of new 
superstitions springs up more foolish than the old 
ones. I’ve lived up there so long I’ve grown mor¬ 
bid. I’ve an attack of the silliest form of super¬ 
stition—a presentiment. 

Dul. Ah, I knew it ! 

David. In six months 1 shall laugh at it. We 
will laugh at it together. 

Dul. [. Determinedly .] You shall not go ! 

David. I must. I’m working with my comrades 
all over the world. I’ve undertaken this part of 
the work. If I don’t carry it out I break faith 
with them and spoil their work too. All the good 
fellows who are going with me and sharing in my 
dangers are waiting for me at Marseilles. I can't 
leave them in the lurch—I can’t—you would not 
have me do it ! Say you wouldn’t have me stamp 
myself a coward, a deserter. 


ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


93 


Dul. No, no. But 1 don’t want you to go. 

[.Approaching him.] If I asked you to stay- 

David. You will not— [Going towards her. J You 
will not [a/ little nearer?\ ask me to stay. [She 
looks at hivi—gradually they go closer to each other , 
and his manner changes from a calm, dreamy, fateful 
tone to a fierce, hoarse , passionate tone.] Do you 
know what it means if I stay? Dulcie ! 

Dul. You never called me that before. 

David. [Clasping her.] I’ve never been so near 
to you. Dulcie ! [ With sudden , mad abandonment , 

clasping her passionately.] Yes, I’ll stay ! I’ll stay ! 
Tell me to stay because—because—you love me. 

Dul. Stay—because—ah, you know I love you ! 
[Hides her head in his breast.] 

David. Eddie’s right. Let us be fools to-night! 
Let us live to-night ! I’m hungry for you ! Dulcie,, 
tell me once again that you love me. 

Dul. No —no. Forget it. What have I said ? 
What shall we do ? 

David. I don’t know. What does it matter ? 
We will go to this ball—anything—anywhere ! Our 
lives are in our own hands. Come with me. [Lead¬ 
ing her towards door , left.] 

Sir Brice enters. He shuts the door, stands agabist 
it, his feet a little sprawling, his hands in his 
pockets, looking at them maliciously. Long pause. 
Helen enters at the other door. Another pause.. 
She beckons Dulcie. 



94 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


Helen. Dulcie ! [Indicates the inside room. Dul- 
CiE goes up to her.] 

[Exit Helen. Dulcie at the door looks 
at the two ?}ien. Exit Dulcie. The 
two men are left alone. Another slight 
pause. Sir Brice walks very deliberately 
up to David. I he tivo men stand close 
to each other for a mo?nent or two. 

Sir Brice. You’ve come to settle your little 
account I suppose ? 

David. I owe you nothing. 

Sir Brice. But I owe you six thousand pounds. 
I haven’t a penny in the world. I’ll cut you for it, 
double or quits. 

David. I don’t play cards. 

Sir Brice. You’d better begin. [Rapping on the 
table with the cards J 

David. [ Very firmly.] I don’t play cards with 
you. 

Sir Brice. And I say you shall. 

David. [Very stern and contemptuous .] I don’t 
play cards with you. [Going towards door; Sir 
Brice following him up.] 

Sir Brice. You refuse ? 

David. I refuse. 

Sir Brice. [Stopping him.] Once for all, will you 
give me a chance of paying back the six thousand 
pounds that Lady Skene has borrowed from you ? 
Yes or no ? 


ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


95 


David. No. 

Sir Brice. No? 

David. [ Very emphatically .] No. [Goes to door, 
suddejily turns round, comes up to him.'] Yes. [Comes 
to the table .] I do play cards with you. You want 
my money. Very well. I’ll give you a chance of 
winning all I have in the world. 

Sir Brice. [After a look of astonishjnent.] Good. 
I’m your man. Any game you like, and any stakes. 

David. [ Very calm, cold, intejise tone all through .] 
The stakes on my side are some two hundred thou¬ 
sand pounds. The stakes on your side are—your 
wife and child. 

Sir Brice. [Taken aback ] My wife and child ! 
David. Your wife and child. Come—begin ! 
[Points to the cards.] 

Sir Brice. [Getting flurried .] My wife and child ? 
[Puts his hands restlessly through his hair, looks 
i?iiently at David. Pause.] All right. [Pause. 
Cunningly.] I value my wife and child very highly. 

David. I value them at all I have in the world. 
[Pointing to cards.] Begin ! 

Sir Brice. You seem in a hurry. 

David. I believe I haven’t six months to live. 
I want to make the most of those six months. If 
I have more I want to make the most of all the 
years. Begin ! 

Sir Brice. [ Wipes his face with his handker¬ 
chief.] This is the first time I’ve played this game. 
We’d better arrange conditions. 


9 6 


THE MASQUERADERS 


act in 


David. There’s only one condition. We play 
till I’m beggared of every farthing I have, or till 
you’re beggared of them. Sit down ! 

Sir Brice. [Sits down. J Very well. [ Pause .] 
What game ? 

David. The shortest. 

Sir Brice. Simple cutting ? 

David. What you please. Begin ! 

Sir Brice. There’s no hurry. I mean to have 
a night’s fun out of this. 

David. Look at me. Don’t trifle with me ! I 
want to have done with you. I want them to have 
done with you. I want to get them away from 
you. Quick ! I want to know now—now—this 
very moment—whether they are yours or mine. 
Begin. 

Sir Brice. [ Shuffles the cards. ] All right. What 
do we cut for ? 

David. Let one cut settle it. 

Sir Brice. No. It’s too much to risk on one 
throw. 

David. One cut. Begin. 

Sir Brice. It’s too big. I can’t. [ Gets up; 
walks about a pace or two .] I like high play, but 
that’s too high for me. [David remains at back of 
table , very calm ; does not stir all through the scene ; 
Sir Brice walking about .] No, by Jove ! I’ll tell 
you what I’ll do. Three cuts out of five. Damn it 
all ! I’m game ! Two out of three. By Jove, two 
out of three ! Will that do ? 


ACT III 


THE MASQUERADERS 


97 


David. So be it ! Shuffle. Sit down ! [Sir 
Brice sits down ; begins shuffling the cards. All 
In rough the scene he is nervous ; excited , hysterical , 
laughing. David as cold as a statue .] 

Sir Brice. [Having shuffled .] Now then. Who 
cuts first ? 


Dulcie enters at back. 

Dul. [Surprised.] Mr. Remon ! No ! No ! Not 
that ! Not that ! 

David. [ Coming down , warning her off with a 
motion of his hand. ] Jf you please. Stand aside 
for a moment. [ Offers the cards to Sir Brice to 
cut.] 

Sir Brice. Ace counts lowest. 

David. As you will. Cut. [Sir Brice cuts. J 

Sir Brice. King ! By Jove ! King ! Cut ! 
[David cuts.] 

Sir Brice. Nine ! One to me ! By Jove ! one 
to me ! [TV Dulcie.] Give us up some of those 
cards, will you ? [David by a gesture stops herj 
takes up the cards and shuffles them.] 

Sir Brice. Shuffle up! By Jove ! if I win- 

Dul. Mr. Remon, you’ll not play any more ? 

David. [Very gently.] Stand aside, please. 

Sir Brice. No. Let her shuffle for us. She’s 
in it, isn’t she ? 

Dul. What do you mean ? What are you play¬ 
ing for ? 

Sir Brice. You’d like to know, would you ? 


9 8 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT III 


What are we playing for? I’ll tell you. We’re 
playing for you and your child ! 

Dul. [Suddenly.'] What ? [Shows great horror 
and astonishment .] Mr. Remon ! It’s not so ? It’s 
not so ? [ To David.] What are you playing for? 

David. He has said. For you and your child. 
If I win, will you abide by the bargain? [ Very 
long pause—she looks from one to the other. ] 

Dul. Yes. 

David. \Same calm tone—to Sir Brice.] Shuffle. 
[ They both shuffle cards.] 

Sir Brice. [ Very excited, laughing, nervous.] 
You’ve got to win both now. You know that ? 

David. I know. [ Holds the cards he has shuffled 
to Sir Brice.] 

Sir Brice. [Cuts.] Ten. Not bad. You’ve got 
to beat it. Cut ! [Holds the cards he has shuffled to 
David. David cuts.] 

Sir Brice. Queen ! One each ! Now for the 

final, d’ye hear ? This is final. If I win- 

[ Walking about excitedlyj pours out a glass of 
brandy — drinks.] I’ll cut first ! No ! damn it all ! 
you cut first ! [Holding cards. David cuts.] Eight ! 
[To David, suddenly.] Suppose I win—you’ll pay 
me ? You mean to pay me ? 

David. I shall pay you every farthing. 

Sir Brice. What security do you give me ? 

David. My word in the presence of the woman 
I love. 



ACT 111 


THE MASQUERADERS 


99 


Sir Brice. [II alks about .] Let me be a moment. 
[ Walks about; takes up brandy: drinks a 

David. Cut. 

Sir Brice. [To Dulcie. J You’re anxious, are 
you ? I’m going to win ! I mean it ! I’m going 
to win ! [To David.] Now! [David holds cards ; 
Sir Brice cuts.] My God ! I’ve lost ! 

David. [ Throws down the card table; leaps at 
him; catches hold of him by the throat .] Yes, you've 
lost ! She’s mine ! [Gets him down on his kuees.~\ 
You’ve cheated me of her all these years ! You’ve 
cheated me of her love, cheated me of the father¬ 
hood of her child, you’ve dragged her down, you’ve 
dishonoured her ! She’s my wife now—my wife 
and child ! Take your oath you’ll never lay claim 
to them again ! Swear it ! [Shaking him .] 

Sir Brice. She’s yours ! Take her ! I’ll never 
see her or her child again ! I swear it ! Take 
them ! 

David. Dare to break your word—dare to lay a 
finger on her or her child—dare to show your face 
in the home that my love shall give to her—and 
whatever laws men have made to bind you and her 
together, I’ll break them and rid her of you ! D’ye 
hear ? She’s mine ! She’s mine ! She’s mine ! 
[Throws Sir Brice back on the floor. To Dulcie.] 
My wife ! My child ! Come ! You’re mine ! 
[Dulcie takes up her cloak , 7 vhich has been lying on 
chair at back ,] [Exeunt David and Dulcie. 


ioo 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT IV 


ACT IV. 

Scene. The Observatory on Mont Garidelli in the 
Maritime Alps, near A ice. A door, right. A 
large fire-place, with pine cones and pine logs ready 
to be laid, above door, right. At the back, seen 
through a large curtained doorway, is the circular 
Obse?'vatory with large telescope. This room is 
vaguely seen, the telescope being lighted by a shaft 
of moonlight at the beginning of the act. On the 
left side, slant-wise, a large window, with terrace 
outside, giving scenery of the Maritime Alps. A 
large arm-chair above the fire-place. On table and 
scattered about the room are a number of scientific 
books and astronomical instruments and apparatus. 
The window is curtained with Eastern curtains. 
As curtain rises the whole scene is dark except for 
the shaft of moonlight that falls on the telescope. 

Enter David with lamp in one hand, leading 
Dulcie with the other. 

David. Come in ! Come to your home ! My 
wife ! 

Dul. [Cold, shuddering .] Ah no—don’t call me 
that—at least not yet. 

David. You're shivering! Let me give you 


ACT IV 


THE MASQUERADERS 


IOI 


some wine. [Goes to cupboard, brings out bottle and 
glass, places them on table .] 

Dul. No, no, tell me - [Goes to him, looks into 

his face.] 

David. [With great tenderness.] Dulcie ! Dulcie ! 
What is it, dear? How cold you are. I’ll light 
the fire. [Lights fire, which is already laid with 
large pine cones and logs , and quickly blazes up ] I’m 
your servant now. I’ve nothing to do all my life 
but wait on you. We shall soon have a blaze with 
these pine logs. My servants left me last night. 
I thought I should have no further use for them. 
I thought my life here was ended. Ended ! My 
life has only begun this last hour. [Clasping her.] 
Dulcie ! Do you know where you are ? You are 
in your home. Take off your hat and cloak, dear. 
[Gently removes her hat and cloak.] There ! [Seats 
her at the fire in large chair.] This is your own 
hearth, dear, your own fireside. You are my bride ! 
No bride was ever so welcome as you. Poor hands 
so cold. [ Takes her hands in his, rubs them ; as he 
does so they both at one moment see her wedding-ring. 
Dulcie withdraws her hand in shame. They look at 
each other horrified. A pause.] Give me your hand. 
[ She holds it out. He takes off the ring , goes to win¬ 
dow, draws aside the curtains, opens window, throws 
away the ring , comes back to her. The dawn outside 
begins and gradually rises into a full sunrise during 
progress of act. ] 



102 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT IV 


Dul. [As he returns to //<?; .] Oh, you’ll be very 
kind to me ? 

David. I have no life, no ambition away from 
you. The world has gone from me. This journey 
to Africa—it was the object of my life—it’s less 
than nothing to me now. I’ve thrown it away, I’ve 
forgotten it, because you asked me. 

Dul. Ah no, you mustn’t do that. Oh, I’m 
selfish to take you from your comrades, from your 
work. You must go and make this great discovery. 

David. I’ve made the one great discovery there 
was to make. It’s the cunningest of them all. 
We astronomers have been puzzling all our lives to 
find out what gravitation is. I’ve found it out. 
Gravitation is love. It’s love that holds together 
all this universe. It’s love that drives every little 
atom in space to rush to every other little atom. 
There’s love at the centre of the system. There’s 
love at the centre of all things. No astronomer 
ever made a discovery equal to that, Dulcie ! Look 
at me ! What ails you ? What are you thinking of? 

Dul. Nell and Rosy. They’ll be here soon. 

David. Yes. They can’t be long. Don’t think 
of them. Think only of ourselves. 

Dul. Why wouldn’t you come with me to Beau¬ 
lieu and bring them up here ? 

David. I was afraid your sister would take you 
from me. I wanted to have you all to myself. 
When she comes here I wanted her to find you 
already in your home. 


ACT IV 


THE MASQUERADERS 


103 


Dul. It’s so strange. 

David. What is strange ? 

Dul. To be here with you—alone. 

David. It’s not strange to me. You’ve been 
here so often already. In my loneliness I’ve pic¬ 
tured you here hundreds of times. I at my work 
in there, you in this chair by the fire, Rosy playing 
about the floor. 

Dul. [Suddenly gets up and goes from him.\ Rosy ! 

David. [ Following her.] She is my child now, as 
you are my wife. Dulcie, say you know we have 
done right. 

Dul. [ Distracted .] Right ! Yes—yes—I suppose 
so ! What else could we do ? What else could I do ? 

David. Say you know we have done right. 

Dul. Yes—yes—I can’t think now. [ Suddenly 
throwing her arms round him.] I only know I love 
you. 

David. [ Clasping her madly.] Dulcie, this is your 
home, this is our wedding-day. My bride ! 

Dul. [ Tearing herself f rom him.] No, no—not 
now—not yet ! My promise to Nell—I promised 
her I would take no step till I had seen her. 

David. [. Pursuing her , fiercely clasping her.] 
You’ve taken the step. You’re mine- 

Dul. No, no. [ Repulsing him again.] Let me 
think. Wait till Nell comes. Ah, don’t think I 
don’t love you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do or 
suffer for you. There’s not a thought in my heart 



o 4 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT IV 


that isn’t yours. Say you know it ! Say you know 
it! 

David. I know it. What then ? Tell me what’s 
in your heart. 

Dul. 1 can’t. Can’t you guess ? 

David. Guess—what ? 

Dul. Oh it was horrible with him. There was 
no home, no family, no love. It seemed like a 
blasphemy of home to live with him. But this—1 
can’t tell you how I feel—I don’t think any man 
can understand it. It’s only a woman, and not all 
women—not many women perhaps—but I feel it. 
I can’t get rid of it. To live with you seems more 
horrible than the other. I cannot! I cannot ! I 
cannot! 

David. [ Very calmly , very sweetly, very sooth¬ 
ingly .] Dearest, you must not talk like this. 
Heaven bear me witness you will come to me as 
pure as if I took you from your mother’s side, as 
pure as if you had never known any kiss but your 
sister’s. [ Attempting to embrace her.\ 

Dul. Ah ! [ Shrinking from him.\ Don’t 1 tell 

you, a man can’t understand my feelings. [Looks 
at him half-loving, half-horrified; stands looking at 
him. A little pause. ] 

David. [Same soft , tender tone , very persuasive , 
very low , very sweet. ] Dulcie, in a very little while 
you will grow to think of me as if I were your very 
husband—as I shall be ; and with you, and your 


ACT IV 


THE MASQUERADERS 


io 5 


sister, and Eddie, and Rosy, we shall make one 
happy, one united family. [ Approaching her.'] 

Dul. Ah ! that’s it. I feel—— 

David. [ Clasping her again.] What ? 

Dul. We can’t be a family that way. There’s* 
only one way of being a family. 

David. And that ? 

Dul. By the marriage and love of husband and 
wife. 

David. It is marriage I offer you. Dulcie, you 
must see there’s no future for you away from me. 
Say you’ll give yourself to me willingly. [Pause \ 
I will not take you else. Give yourself to me ! 

Dul. [After a pause.] I am yours. 

David. No. Give yourself to me—wholly, freely,, 
willingly. 

Dul. Oh ! don’t you see ? I would give you 
myself—a thousand selves if I could. What is 
there in me that is worth giving, or worth your 
taking now ! 

David. Everything, everything. Give yourself 
to me ! 

Dul. If I give you myself I give you the last four 
years with me. They are part of me. I shall only 
feel that I can never get rid of them. I cannot get 
rid of them ! Every time you kiss me I shall see 
him beside us ! I cannot! I cannot ! I cannot ! I 
canno: ! [Pause. Eddie looks in at window .] 

Eddie. Ho, ho, Davy ! Ho, ho ! Here we are l 



THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT IV 


106 


Dul. [Goes to window, goes up to him.] My sister 
and Rosy, are they with you ? 

Eddie. [Pointing down below .] Quite safe. Here 
they are. Look alive, Davy ! We’ve no time to 
waste. I shall be ready in a twinkling. I’m half 
a fool and half a wise man just now. In two min¬ 
utes I shall be in my right senses—or in as many 

as I’ve got—and then- [Passes by, and off.] 

David. [To Dulcie.] Dulcie, your sister is here. 
Tell her that henceforth you are my wife. 

Dul. I am your—slave, your%og, your anything ! 
Take me if you will—take me ! But kill me after. 

If you don’t, I shall kill myself. Helen enters at 
door, stands for a moment looking at one and then at 
the other.] 

Helen. Dulcie. [Dulcie goes to her.] 

Dul. Rosy—where is she ? 

Helen. [Pointing off.] She’s there. [Dulcie is 
going. Helen stops her.] Let me look at you. * 
[Dulcie looks f rankly at her. [Helen smiles, kisses 
her.] Go to your baby. [Exit Dulcie. Helen 
shuts the door after Dulcie.] You’ve taken her 
from him ? [David nods.] 

Helen. For good and all ? 

David. For good and all. 

Helen. Why have you brought her here ? 

David. To make her my wife. 

Helen. Your wife? That is impossible unless- 

David. Unless? 



ACT IV 


THE MASQUERADERS 


107 


Helen. Unless her husband divorces her and 
takes her child from her. 

David. I’ve won her from him, her and the 
child. Don’t come between us. Give them to me! 
[Going towards the door where Dulcie has gone off.'] 

Helen. [Stops hi?n.\ She is not mine to give. 
She is not yours to take. Your brother tells me 
you’re going on this expedition to Africa this morn¬ 
ing. 

David. I’m not going. 

Helen. Not going? But you have looked for¬ 
ward to it all your life ! 

David. [A great cry.] I’ve wasted all my life in 
such dreams and shadows as work and duty. What 
has it availed me ? Now I see one chance of hap¬ 
piness before me, don’t take it from me ! Give 
them to me ! [ She stops him.] I will have them ! 

Eddie enters dressed ready to start. 

Eddie. Davy, old boy, look alive ! The men 
have got everything on the mules. We’ve not a 
moment to waste. 

David. I’m not going. 

Eddie. Not going? But thdy are all waiting for 
us. If we don’t go, all the expeditions everywhere 
will be a failure. Davy, you aren’t going to sell 
them all like a—like a— They’ll call you a—well, 
you fill in the word. 

David. I’m not going. 

Eddie. But what excuse can we make ? 


lo8 THE MASQUEBADERS ACT IV 

David. Any excuse you like—I’ve changed my 
mind. 

Helen. [ With quiet sarcasm.] Is that a good 
excuse for a soldier to make just as lie’s ordered 
into battle ? 

David. I’m not a soldier. 

Helen. Yes you are. We are all soldiers on 
this earth, bound to be loyal to every one of our 
comrades, bound to obey the great rules of life, 
whether they are easy or hard. Yes, and all the 
more bound when they are hard, when they may 
cost us our very life. You’ll go—you’ll go, and 
leave her to me and Rosy ? 

David. I love her ! I love her ! 

Helen. Then save her for her child. Save her 
to be a good mother to that little helpless creature 
she has brought into the world, so that when her girl 
grows up and she has to guide her, she’ll not have 
to say to her child, “ You can give yourself to this 
man, and if you don’t like him you can give your¬ 
self to another, and to another, and so on. It 
doesn’t matter. It was what I did ! ” 

David. \_Same tone.] I love her! I love her ! I 
love her ! You shan’t reason me out of my hap¬ 
piness ! 

Helen, [.Stopping him.] I can’t reason at all. I 
can only feel, and I know my instinct is right. I 
know the woman who gives herself to another man 
while her husband is alive betrays her sex, and is a 
bad woman. 


ACT IV 


THE MASQUERADERS 


109 


David. I love her ! I love her ! [ Going towards 
door.\ 

Helen. [Stopping him.] Then make your love 
the best thing in her life, and the best thing in 
yours. You have loved her so well. You have 
made so many sacrifices for her. Make this one 
last sacrifice. Keep her pure for her child. 
[David paces up and doivn the room in a fever of 
irresolution. Eddie watches.\ 

Eddie. That’s God’s voice speaking to you now, 
Davy. 

Dulcie enters very quietly , looking off . 

Dul. [To David.] She's asleep. Go, and look 
at her. 

[Exit David. Dulcie is about to follow. 

Helen stops her. 

Helen. Dulcie. 

Dul. What? 

Helen. He’s given his word to his comrades. 
Don’t make him play the coward. 

David re-enters , much calmer. 

David. Miss Larondie, I’ll write to you from 
Marseilles. I have left everything in order for her. 
If by any chance I should not return- 

Dul. [ With a great cry.\ Ah ! [Goes to him.] 

David. Take care of her while I’m away. 

Dul. But if you do not return ? 



no 


THE MASQUERADERS 


ACT IV 


David. [ Very calm , very bitter , very tender , with a 
little smile.'] Then—we shall have played our parts 
well in this little puppet-show, shall we not ? Don’t 
cry, my dear, why should you ? If I were a soldier 
you would tell me to go. We shall not be absent 
from each other long. Don’t cry, dear. It’s my 
duty to go, Dulcie. Be brave. Tell me to go. 

Dul. \^Bows her head.] Go. Go. 

David. [ Going from her some steps.] I’ve played 
this great game of love like a fool, as men would 
say. Perhaps I’ve played the great game of life 
like a fool, too. If we are sacrificing ourselves for 
a shadow we are only doing what earth’s best crea¬ 
tures have done before us. If duty is reality, we 
have done right. Right—wrong—duty—they may 
be all shadows, but my love for you is real. [Dul¬ 
cie is sobbing , he comes to her.] Hush ! Hush, dear ! 
We shall never know satiety. Our love will never 
grow stale and commonplace will it ? Dulcie, 
we’ve only thrown away the husks. We’ve kept 
the immortal part of our love—if there is an im¬ 
mortal part. Look ! this is my mother’s wedding 
ring. [ Taking a very thin gold ring from his little 
finger.] She gave it to me as she was dying. It 
has never left my finger since. I give it you in 
exchange for the one I took from you. Give me 
your hand. [Dulcie gives it.] With this ring I 
thee wed. As she that bore me was pure, so I 
leave you pure, dear. Kiss me once—I’ve held 
you sacred ! [ She hisses him.] Good-bye. No, 


ACT IV 


THE MASQUERADERS 


111 


stay. [Pours out a glass of wine , gives it to her.\ 
Drink with me. [She takes the glass, drinks some of 
it. He takes it from her, drains it, dashes the glass 
on the floor, where it is shivered to atoms: he then 
turns very brightly and gaily to Eddie.] Now Eddie 
—our work ! 

Eddie. Ready, big brother ! 

David. [To Dulcie.] In six months from now, 
come to meet me, my wife, and bring our child. 
Or, it may be a little later—but come and meet me 
—my wife—a little later. 

Dul. Where ? 

David. In that little star in Andromeda. All’s 
real there. [Exeunt Eddie and David. 

curtain. 

If curtain is called up, show a picture of David 
outside the window, in the full morning sunlight, the 
mountains covered with snow behind him ; Eddie is 
beside him drawing him away. Helen has brought 
Rosy to Dulcie, who has the child in her arms, 
clasping her, her face hidden. 






























































THE MASQUERADERS 


A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS 


BY 

HENRY ARTHUR JONES 

AUTHOR OF “THE TEMPTER,” “THE CRUSADERS,” “ THE DANCING 
GIRL/’ “ JUDAH,” U THE MIDDLEMAN,” ETC. 


Nero Uovk 

MACMILLAN AND CO. 

A N I) L O N DON 

1894 





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